Blood and Snow
by Max Phrost
Summary: A Pokemon zombie apocalypse tale filled with excessive violence, ho-yay, and scarring of both the physical and mental variety. Based off my Nuzlocke run of Pokemon Platinum. CHARACTER Q&A! :D
1. Prologue

The following story is based on my Nuzlocke run of Pokemon: Platinum Version.

RULES:

**If a Pokémon faints it is considered dead and must be released.**

**Only the first Pokémon in any area can be caught.**

_Infected/Bidoof Clause:_ Any member of the Bidoof family must be killed, never caught or allowed to escape.

_Shiny Clause:_ Shinies can be caught regardless of area. However, if a shiny is not the first Pokémon seen in an area, it cannot be used and must be boxed or sent to another game.

_Survivor Clause:_ If a Pokémon or Pokémon egg can be received as a gift in any area, obtaining it has priority over catching or trading other Pokémon in the area.

**All Pokémon must be nicknamed after literary characters.**

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><p><span>PART ONE: I AM (NOT) MADE OF GOLD<span>

PROLOGUE

Leo smirked at me, his amber eyes lit up by the dying summer sunlight. A cold breeze blew through his hair, long blonde pieces flying opposite the way they rest. He leaned against a pale steel railing, his back to the city of Oreburgh spread out below us. His bare hands lay on the ledge, elbows locked and shoulders hunched in a detached, confident manner. "I still have trouble believing you actually earned that badge. You know, the fair way." He was only teasing, but it was getting on my nerves. I had made the long journey to Oreburgh with him, putting up with his constant joking for nearly two months.

"Really," I responded flatly, deciding not to humor him this time. Walking past him, I crossed my arms on the railing and rested my chin in them. A thin-furred, bright orange Chimchar leapt up beside my face with ease, climbing to the top rail in order to get a better look at the view. I scanned the gradually darkening horizon, watching crowds of Zubat fly from the trees in flocks to begin their nightly hunt. The city stirred faintly, small bubbles of conversation reaching us on the roof of the Pokémon Center. Children ran about, playing with fake Pokeballs and having mock battles dangerously close to the not-quite-still streets.

"Yep," Leo turned around, mimicking my position by laying his cheek against his wrists on the top rail. "I mean, your starter's just not suited for facing Rock-types," the little orange Chimp Pokémon glanced down at him disapprovingly, and he laughed in response. "No offense, Scout. Of course." He ruffled the hair on top of her head, causing her to climb away from him and jump to the ground. She walked to my other side, sitting down against the wall and patting her fur down as best she could.

I sighed and bent down to pick her up. She lay comfortably in my arms, yawning a bit as I cradled her carefully. "Well now look. You've made her unfriendly." Now holding thirteen pounds of warm fire monkey, I stood back up and returned to staring over the railing. The darkness was growing, the first couple stars poking through the red-orange sky.

"Me? I was only kidding…" He trailed off, unsure of how to respond. He groaned suddenly and buried his head in his arms. "There's nothing to do in this town, Jay. Let's at least go back to Jubilife, they had a TV Station and everything." His voice was somewhat muffled, and he waited until he was almost done whining to look back up at me.

I started to respond, but fell silent when I heard the sound of the rooftop door opening. Leo whipped around, instantly nervous. We weren't technically supposed to be on the roof, but we figured we would be fine if we just slipped up there without asking. The door opened slowly, dragging along the ground and making a noise like metal against metal.

"Hey, who's there?" Leo called, voice shaking a bit. We waited for several seconds with no response. "Jay?" His voice dropped to a whisper, and he kept glancing over at me anxiously. A long, pale leg slid out from behind the door, followed by a thin white hand. I watched carefully, my heart speeding up as the figure slowly emerged from the staircase. "I have a weird feeling about this…"

Scout, sensing our distress, climbed on to my back and stood in between my shoulders, paws on my hat for support. I looked back at Leo, trying not to seem agitated. "How come?"

The owner of the leg fell through the doorway, collapsing as the door swung open wide and slammed into the wall behind it. Her dress was stained with a brilliant red color, her shock of pink hair slick with blood. Scout tensed, fingers digging into my hat so hard I could feel them in my hair. With shaking hands I pried her off my head, taking her back into my arms where I could see her.

"Is-is that the nurse from downstairs?" Leo stammered, one hand still gripping the railing. His knuckles were white with fear, his face flushed at the sight of blood.

"I think so…" Scout looked out at her, eyes narrowed. "Do you-do you want to go check?"

Leo stood in silence for a few moments before coming to a decision. "Let's go see together," his voice broke mid-sentence, and he cleared his throat. "I mean, she might need help or something." He started forward, then stopped when he saw I wasn't following. Scout scrambled back to my shoulder, and I forced my legs to move.

Looking at me for constant support, Leo approached the woman hesitantly. He tried calling to her again, and she still didn't respond. He knelt down beside her, gesturing for me to do the same. My whole body shook as I dropped down to one knee and looked at the woman's bloodied figure. The deep red stains spread down her back, most of it coming from a massive gash in the side of her neck. Bile rose quickly to my throat, and I covered my mouth with my hands. Scout hung from my neck, kicking wildly through the air until she was able to climb back onto my shoulder. I looked up at Leo, struggling to hold back the urge to vomit.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright?" His voice shook, and he reached out a tentative hand to shake her shoulder. Suddenly, she lurched back into a kneeling position. Scout was on top of my head again, fingers digging into my scalp. I yelped a bit, jumping away from the woman. Now we could see her face, her skin a deep blue, her eyes sunken in and without pupils.

A scream sounded from far away, and the bloodied nurse suddenly jerked toward Leo. He cried out and pulled his legs away from her grasping hands, scrambling to his feet as fast as he could. She slowly stood up, blood dripping from her thin, decaying body. She lurched toward him, and he dodged by falling to his right. She reached for him again, but he was too fast.

Something sharp dug into my ear, and I leapt to my feet in surprise. My hand went immediately to where it stung, but whatever had hurt me hadn't drawn blood. I looked down and realized suddenly that it was Scout, who must have scratched or bitten me to bring me back to the situation at hand. She looked surprisingly focused, and had fallen into a fighting stance.

The nurse made another move for Leo, now using both arms. She grasped his left elbow, quickly bringing her mouth to his flesh. Without thinking, I ordered Scout to set her on fire. The little Chimchar ran for the crazed nurse, taking a flying leap and letting loose a short burst of flame from her mouth. Leo's assailant recoiled immediately, turning her attention to my Pokémon and I. Her dress had caught fire almost instantly, but she didn't seem to be in any pain. Leo stood completely still, frozen in shock.

"Leo, send out one of your Pokémon!" I called, my voice hoarse with fear. He didn't respond, just stared as he slowly backed up towards the railing. Realizing he was hopeless, I told Scout to distract her while I looked for a weapon. The fire-type didn't question my order, and began running around to keep the burning nurse occupied. She was groaning loudly now, and had slowed down to the point that it didn't take much for Scout to dodge her blows.

I frantically scanned the rooftop for something I could use as a weapon, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my head. But the roof was bare save for a large air conditioning unit and the machine used to activate the trade system on the floor below. Panicking, I bolted for the air conditioner. I knelt by it and began to pull as hard as I could on one of the pipes, my face beat red as I struggled against it. But my arms had never been particularly strong, and were unable to get it free. Looking around desperately, I spotted a Staravia-shaped weather vane atop one of the railings. I sprinted for it, praying that it would give as I wrapped my hands around it and pulled as hard as I could.

It broke free, sending me falling backward from the momentum. I staggered a bit as I regained my balance, turning back to look at the nurse. She could stumble around now, the fire having almost completely consumed her. Scout still held her attention, bringing the nurse in slow, agonizing circles. Holding my makeshift weapon above my head, I ran towards her.

I aimed like I was going to hit a baseball, my hands sliding to the end of the weather vane as I swung it around in a wide arc. The heat from the flames reached for me, gripping my arms as my weapon made contact with the nurse's head. A disturbing, uncannily human scream burst from her mouth as blood gushed out of the new wound and covered my face in thick warmth. Her skull broke much easier than I'd anticipated, and she fell face-first to the floor without another sound. Scout jumped away, scampering back to stand behind me.

Breathing heavily, I stood watching the flames engulf the body for a long while. Dark, extremely thick blood dripped slowly from the end of the Staravia's beak, forming a small red puddle just below it. All at once I felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and I gasped briefly before collapsing to my knees and throwing up whatever I'd eaten earlier that day. The weather vane made a loud clinking noise as it dropped to the ground and rolled away from me. I coughed a few times, feeling disgusting. The flames burned bright and loud just a few feet away, their warmth making me colder.

I looked up into Leo's wide, light eyes. He had his arms wrapped around his torso, and his face was incredibly pale. He reached his hand down to help me up, but I ignored it and stood on my own. "I'm…what happened?" He asked, his voice a deathly quiet.

We heard another distant scream, and I gulped- all at once feeling like I'd lost something extremely important to me.


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE: OVERDUE

The lab has been lit without electricity for two years. We do our work relying on the light of the day, and use Scout's tail whenever we need to go into the basement. The windows down there are too small to really do anything by, but all day sunlight fills the first and second floors well enough that we generally do whatever must be done up there. We slept by those upstairs windows for the first few weeks we spent holed up here before we discovered that it gets far too cold to get any reasonable rest. The heat was out long before the electricity, so all we had were our own bodies and whatever blankets the Professor had stockpiled through the years to keep us warm.

Today is no different. Dull, early morning sunlight pours in through our favorite ground floor windows, framing her body and shadowing her face. Any hint of curves she once had are now long-gone, stolen by years of minimal nutrition and her strange fascination with sacrificing herself. Thin black hair falls messily from her scalp, resting on either side of her neck like a scarf. She has her arms crossed in protest, and if I could see her face I'm sure it'd be a mask of disapproval.

We've been planning this day for the past three weeks. We'd wanted to leave just months after our initial arrival, but the legions of zombies storming the lab the past four years had all but destroyed that dream. Now we are adamant; getting out of Sandgem is our first and foremost priority. Naturally, the Professor hated that idea from the very first time we suggested it. We can survive here, he'd said, his face filled with a desperate desire to keep us under his wing. There could be anything waiting for us out there: crazed survivors, roving gangs of criminals, and of course the never-ending hoard of zombies.

But that is precisely why we must leave. Leo and I have spent countless nights discussing our motives for leaving behind the only home we've known for the past four years, and have come to the conclusion that we can't spend our entire lives in the lab, living off experimental plants and reading books about the pre-zombie days for fun. Even if we wander off to certain death, we have to know what lies out there.

Dawn is clears her throat, trying to come up with one final argument to make us stay. We stand before her, hearts and eyes filled with irrational determination, wearing our thick winter jackets, four-year-old backpacks, and whatever else we could find that came close to fitting us in any way. We know she's scared, that she thinks we'll die out there, but if we do at least we'll know that's all we were missing.

I know it doesn't make sense, that it breaks my central belief that if isn't logical, it isn't worth doing. But we have to get out. I've lost four years of my life to this mess, and I refuse to accept losing any more.

"Please don't try to do this…" It's Leo who speaks first. Dawn looks up at him, shifting her arms slightly across her chest. "I told you, we can't stay in this place any longer. Someone needs to search for other survivors, and it might as well be us. And…" he paused, searching for the right way to word his feelings, "think about what could be out there!"

"You'll die, Leo!" Her voice is high with desperation. "At least wait until we can get a signal again, just a few more months."

"We've done that, Dawn. We've waited a few more months; we've waited a few more years. Whatever's out there, it's time we faced it like men." He speaks with a very cold, definitive tone. The only person who wants us to leave more than me is Leo. He wants to experience the world for what it is, to live the life of characters in all those old zombie shows.

He's forgotten what it's like out there, but I figure I'll leave it to him to remember.

She's silent for a little while, and I breathe the tension in deeply. I can feel the warmth of Scout's tail by my leg, the flame burning bright as ever. She makes me feel invincible; I know she'll follow me to the ends of the earth, but that, at the same time, she's smart enough let me know when I'm making a bad choice. It's comforting to know she hasn't stopped me on this one.

"I just…I don't want you to get hurt," Dawn has gone quiet now, barely speaking to us above a whisper. She's made her case before, and knows deep down trying now will just be a waste of time. "Can you at least try to contact us?"

"No," There's a note of regret in Leo's voice, but I can he's trying to be strong. "We'll go home, then return here before leaving for good."

Dawn shifts her weight, but doesn't show any other signs of emotion. She's always been strong and stubborn. She knows this is the end though, at least for now and possibly forever. After a few more heartbeats of cold silence she begins to nod slowly. "Take care of each other."

Leo nods in return, but doesn't say anything. I feel Scout move away from me, the absence of heat making me shiver. The little fire-type raises her paw up to Dawn, who kneels down and hugs her tightly. Scout doesn't quite know how to respond, so she just pats the girl on the back a few times before taking a step back. Dawn stands back up, the light still obscuring her face from us. "Very well. If you aren't back here from visiting Twinleaf in the next four months, we're going to assume you're dead."

"Naturally," Leo smiles a bit, light reflecting off his pale amber eyes. He crosses the room, pulling Dawn into a tight embrace. Even in the small space, I can't understand what he whispers into her ear. They stay like that for a while, only breaking apart when Leo's Prinplup tugs on his coat a few times.

"Remember to say goodbye to the Professor. I know you spoke earlier but…he'd like to know that you're leaving," Dawn says as Leo begins walking to the door. We'd broken the news to him last night, and argued with him for hours before we finally gave up and decided to leave without really telling him.

Leo nevertheless agrees to let him know, and leaves the lab without another word. I start to follow him, but Dawn grabs my hand and forces me to turn around. "Please, keep yourselves alive. He won't listen to me, but I know you will. So please, please do whatever you can to keep each other alive." I stare at her blankly before I smile a bit and nod.

"Of course, Dawn," I pull my hand out of hers and make my way for the door. I reach out to grasp the handle, but hesitate. I now realize this is the biggest decision I have ever made. I've gone out this door before, but never like this. Now I might never come back. I look down at Scout out of habit, and I catch a look of pure determination in her eyes. This is what she wants, and this is what I want. My stomach is tied into knots, and I swallow the bile that rises. The comfort of Scout's heat and the assuredness I get from looking at her convinces me to finally pull open the door.

A blast of cold air smacks into my face, the brilliant orange sunrise blazing far into the distance. I take one last look into the lab, only to see that Dawn has disappeared upstairs. I now know that there is nothing left for us here. With Scout by my side, we close the lab door and take our first few breaths of true freedom.

Leo walks toward us, his Prinplup trotting behind him carefully. He's looking out to the west, where Route 201 waits in the dull morning light. "Just like old times, huh?" I can't tell if he's trying to be funny or not. Either way, I don't laugh.

I walk away from the lab until Scout and I are at the border to Route 201. A stiff wind blows through us, and I shiver a bit. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second and secretly hope that everything will be as it was before this whole mess when I open them.

But to my disappointment, nothing has changed.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT ONCE WAS LIVING

Route 201 lies before us in all its ruined glory. The trees appear to have been torn apart by machinery, and the signposts are smashed to pieces and lying about on the ground. The uncaring autumn sun stares down at us lazily, offering no warmth for this cold October morning. The tall grass, trampled by some unseen beasts, shivers in a cool, stiff breeze. Nothing stirs, and an eerie silence has over taken the area.

I let out a shuddering breath and shove my hands deep into the pockets of my thick blue coat. Leaving so late in the year would generally be a dumb decision, but the weather is hardly any warmer in the summertime. Now all we have to worry about are snow storms, and they're quite rare on this side of Mt. Coronet.

"Jay," Leo has an odd look on his face, like his eyes are smiling but nothing else. He's holding the handle of a shovel in one hand, and the strap of his bag in the other. "Arm yourself."

I nod and swing my backpack down my arm, dropping to my knees. A long, brilliantly silver crowbar is attached to it by a series of hooks. I take it out with far more care than necessary, wanting to savor this moment as much as possible. I'd picked up the crowbar when we made our way back from Jubilife, but haven't used it in four years. When the hoard attacked the lab, we always relied on our Pokémon's ranged attacks to keep them at bay. We very well may not have that luxury now, and we're not about to take any chances.

"Any day now?" Leo asks, his voice flat and impatient. His tone of annoyance brings a small grin to my face. He always used to wait for me, before this whole mess, and was never happy about it. Hearing him regain something of his old self makes me feel happier than it probably should.

I stand up slowly, slinging my bag onto my back once again. "Alright. Let's go." Without looking at him, I begin to take my first steps on Route 201 in over four years. The dying grasses crunch under my feet, weak from the cold, and from being left to survive without competition. Leo grabs my arm suddenly, and I turn to look at him.

"Wait, let's…let's do this together." He looks sincere, and I realize that it'll take much more than just a few steps away from the lab to get the old Leo back. But I agree, and shake his hand off my arm. I wait until we're standing in line with each other, breathing the infected air in deeply. I close my eyes for just a second, relishing the end of our days stuck in Sandgem.

But when I open them Leo has already bolted down the path. He turns back, laughing loudly and panting. "I'm not gonna keep waiting for you, Jay! If you can't keep up, I'll leave you behind!" The sun is facing him, giving both him and his Prinplup long, jagged shadows in the grass. Behind him lies darkness.

I smile and run after him, careful not to trip. Scout stays back, staring at the lab a few moments longer before running to us dutifully. Brilliant orange trees flank us on both sides, leaves long fallen scattering the ground and creating a dull brown blanket along the path. From what I remember, Route 201 used to be much wider. Now the intrusion of plants from the forest has shrunk it down to a small trail just a few meters across.

The route is otherwise lifeless. The flowers and trees, relatively vibrant in the summer, are now just shadows. But it hardly matters to us. Lack of life means lack of enemies. We've so far seen nothing threatening, and if the complete silence is any indication, we shouldn't for some time.

We meander about for a few hours, spending an inordinate amount of time looking at what once was alive, and trying to compare this new route with what we remembered. We come upon a massive oak tree, and climb the low lying branches until we're about two meters from the ground. Scout lies down above us, her flaming tail swinging back and forth not far from our heads. Leo's Prinplup can't quite get up, so he just sits down on the branch closest to the ground.

I put my backpack on my lap, and pull out a bit of the food we saved. I give each one of us just a small piece of bread off of a rather large loaf. Leo shoves it all in his mouth at once, while I take my time and try to enjoy it as best I can. I can see straight through to the sky from where I'm lying. It's mid-morning now, and it's gotten just slightly warmer since we left. My eyelids slide closed for just a few short minutes, and I yawn loudly. I know we can't sleep. The area may seem abandoned, but we can't see far enough into the forest to be sure. Anything could be lurking out there, waiting patiently for us to lower our guard.

Scout suddenly drops down onto my stomach, and I cry out. Her paw goes straight to mouth, and my eyes begin to water from the pain. She's very small for a Monferno, but still heavy enough to hurt me. I look over at Leo, who appears just as confused as I feel. Scout swings down to a lower branch, hanging there in complete quiet for a long time. Prinplup has gone silent as well, and apparently anticipating an attack.

I'm tempted to get up and ask her what's wrong, but it makes far more sense to just stay quiet and wait it out. I grip my crowbar tightly, and sit up in order to get a better look at our Pokémon.

"Hello? Excuse me I…I know you're up there!" My heart beat quickens, and Leo shoots me a suspicious glance. Scout doesn't move, just stares down at something we can't see. Whoever has found us, they sound young and female. The bright orange leaves must hide us from our visitor's direct view, but she had to have heard me yell when scout landed on me.

Scout motions for me to come down and, with as much carefulness as I can muster, I slide down beside her. She points to a spot between the leaves, where a little girl stands with a very skinny Starly in her arms. Scout looks at me and nods, her silent way of telling me the girl appears safe.

I move down to another branch, one that I know the girl can see me from. She's very small, with a tanned face and deep red hair. Her thick white coat is covered in shades of red and brown, while her deep blue ski pants are filled with enough holes to see another layer of clothing underneath. She gasps when she notices me, squeezing the Starly tightly against her chest. "Who are you?" Her voice is very quiet, her face filled with fear.

"Jay, and what about you?" I don't want to sound rude, but I'm honestly unsure of how to talk to her. I've learned to speak in short, blunt sentences. It's all I've needed to get my point across, and I'm not about to change now.

"I'm Emily…and this is Tinkerbell." The Starly makes an unexpectedly loud chirp before burying its head in her chest. "We're all alone." She looks down, her blue eyes dull and hollow. "Why are you here?"

"We're looking for survivors." I study her carefully, looking for any signs of infection. The red spots on her coat are most likely blood, but I doubt that it's hers. She's very skinny, and her eyes are sunken into her face, but she doesn't appear to be pained or particularly lethargic. Her Starly is small, but from what I can tell isn't too ragged-looking.

"Oh…I'm…looking for Lake Verity." I raise an eyebrow, and she shrugs. "It's where I found Tinkerbell…I just want to return her there." I used to visit Lake Verity all the time as a kid, but haven't been there in a while. My mother always used to say that people from Twinleaf Town were blessed by Mesprit, the Legendary Pokémon that lives there. I never really believed her, but she insisted it was true.

"You want to let your Starly go?" I feel Scout at my side, and watch as Emily carefully looks us over. I see now that there's sweat building by her hairline, and I can't help but feel suspicious of this strange little girl.

"Uhm, well she's not really mine, see…I just found her and she decided to stay with me." The Starly coos softly, rubbing its face on Emily's dirty coat.

I don't say anything for a long while, hoping she'll realize we have an agenda and can't help her. But she doesn't budge, just stands before us unwaveringly. A breeze sends the leaves rustling, and I shiver visibly. The girl stays standing, ignoring the cold. Scout climbs back into the tree, leaving me alone with Emily on the ground.

"So you…won't help us?" Tinkerbell struggles a bit in the girl's arms as her grip tightens. I can tell she's gotten sick of waiting, and is desperate for help now. "Please! We've been alone out here for days. It's hot and I'm tired and there's nothing to eat and it's so very lonely…" Her voice broke a few times, but no tears escaped from her eyes. "Please…I…I don't remember anything."

I hear the braches rustle behind me, and turn to see Leo lowering himself down. "No." I order, as stern and clear as possible. He looks frightened, but doesn't climb back up. Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to the girl. "Leave. We can't help you."

"Please!" She gasps, her voice hoarse. The Starly digs itself into her jacket, chirping loudly. The forest around us begins to stir, and Scout is by my side in an instant. "Please, you have to help us."

"Go." I keep my voice low, but still loud and clear. Scout is tense by my side, her tail burning bright and powerful. I can hear a growl emanating from deep within her throat, her heat giving me courage.

Emily stares at us, eyes wide with shock and hurt. She shakes her head in defiance, eyes dark and empty. They are pools of blue, empty and dead. Without any further attempts at communication, she spins around and takes off in the other direction. Her back is coated in blood, deep, dark, and spilling outward from beneath her jacket.

She is slow from malnutrition, and I'm behind her in seconds. I bring the crowbar back, and slam it into her head with all my strength. She screeches, collapsing to the ground in a pool of congealing blood. Tinkerbell bursts from her arms, panicked and scared. Scout catches the Starly and holds her to the ground, awaiting my order.


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE: LOUDER, LOUDER

I approach Scout and Tinkerbell with caution. The Flying-Type squirms in her grasp, desperate to break free. I kneel down and ease Scout's paw off the Starly, feeling the smooth, soft feathers brush against my hand. Even though she's visibly frightened, the Starly doesn't try to run away. Reaching into my backpack, I pull out a piece of bread and hold it out to her. Scout's eyes widen, and she grasps my arm with surprising force. Tinkerbell jumps, steps back a few paces, and readies her wings for flight. I gently pull Scout's fingers off of me, leaving her to watch with bewildered eyes as I extend my hand to the little bird.

There is only silence for a few agonizing moments. Leo and Prinplup come over to stand behind us, keeping as quiet as they can so as to avoid ruining my attempt to help the little Pokémon. The forest is coming to life around us, roused from its deep sleep by the noise we made with Emily. The creatures that lurk there, in the bare autumn trees, can sense distress above all other emotions. They come when the threshold between suspicion and panic is crossed. Scout moves into a fighting stance, listening hard to the noises around her.

Without warning, something large and grey bursts out of the trees. It lets out a loud screech, diving straight for Tinkerbell. The beast suddenly bursts into flame, falling just short of its prey and landing in a burning heap on the ground. Some of the grass begins to catch fire, and Tinkerbell clumsily takes to the sky, flying away from the chaos about to unfold.

I can't blame her. Holding my bloodied crowbar in one hand, I jump to my feet and prepare for a fight. The creature Scout destroyed struggles a bit on the ground, exposed organs still pumping beneath its decayed flesh. Leo drives the handle of his shovel into its skull, ending the thing's misery once and for all.

He looks back at me, and we find we are once again witnesses to the true calm before the storm. The forest falls into eerie silence, the crackling sound of the burning corpse echoing into the daylight. But then one more shape falls from the sky, knocked to the ground by Leo's weapon. Another comes, and another. The swarm has come, and we are prepared for it.

Scout leaps backward, releasing a burst of flame at several of our attackers. Some of them fall to the ground, but a few continue their way for her. Unafraid of the searing flames, she swipes them out of the sky. They land beside their leader, quickly creating a massive fire behind us. A few come for Scout at once, trying to get at her from different angles. She's fast though, and dodges two of them before creating a wheel of flames and throwing herself into the flock. The two she escaped momentarily return, and she snatches them out of the air. They try to bite her paws, but she crushes their skulls with the sort of ease that only comes with killing things to stay alive. The others drop to the ground like meteorites, creating spots of smoke and flame all over the ground.

My crowbar meets flesh, and I drag whatever I've hit to the ground before sending it flying into the fire with a flick of my wrist. I now see the creatures attacking us are Starly and Staravia in various stages of decay. They are starving for flesh, desperate for anything after being alone in the forest for such a long time. Each one requires very little of our meat to survive, but just one bite and we'll become one of them. I turn around swiftly, driving my weapon hard into another feathery body. Not wasting any time, I whip back to barely save myself from another decaying Starly. It cries out in my face, its beak hardly attached to the rest of its head anymore. I swing it away from me, pushing it into the fire. Though the fire won't destroy them, it will at least keep them under control until Prinplup has enough time to put it out.

Something flies over my head, and I drop down instinctively. "Watch yourself." I look up to see Leo with a dead Starly stuck on the end of his weapon. I don't answer him, just stand up so we're back-to-back, and ready myself for the next wave.

Prinplup makes his move, forcing a massive crowd of Starly and Staravia back with a huge pulse of water. Another group flies down almost immediately after, and Leo swings his shovel handle in an arc to take them out at once. The fire roars amidst the panic, spreading to cover much of the field. The oak tree we'd been sitting in only minutes earlier bursts into flame. Leo orders Prinplup to redirect his attention to keeping the fire under control, and he obeys, running away from us to begin lessening the damage we'd done. Leo follows him, keeping his stance low and his weapon raised to protect himself from anything that would dare try to harm him or his Pokémon.

If an average battle with an undead swarm is like a storm, we've only now reached the eye. Neither Scout nor I relax, instead opting to stand with our backs to each other and wait for the enemy to return. She calls out, daring whatever is left of this particular flock to come out and get us. I feel heat at my back, and hear the crackle of flame as she moves her blazing arm across her body. My heart pounds in my ear, blood rushing through my body and filling me with terrifying excitement.

The next wave arrives, but too slow. Scout and I are ready, and when the first few come for us I stab the end of my crowbar into one and use the side of my arm to knock the rest down. They squawk loudly at me, and I crush them with the body of their own fellow undead. I whip my weapon back, the decaying body flying off the end and landing in a pile with the others. The sort of adrenaline I feel is both wonderful and horrifying. Wonderful in that I feel neither pain nor worry, there is only the desire to keep fighting, keep protecting myself and my friends. Horrifying in that the amount of blood on my hands should be reserved only for surgeons and cheap gorn movie villains. These beasts are only out to hurt me, and I use that to justify my love of slaughtering them.

I spin around, wiping the sky just above Scout of undead Pokémon. She in turn pushes a series of short, flaming bursts behind me. I begin to take out the remaining Starly one by one, swinging my crowbar into as many as I can at a time. The blood is too viscous to have dripped onto my hands, but my crowbar is covered in a deep red color. One gets too close, and I grab it with my hand before crushing its head with my fist.

The chaos falls away, and all I can see is the amount of gore on my hand. My stomach feels terribly twisted, and a disgusting taste rises to my mouth. I swallow it back, trying not to gag. The last time I threw up was more than four years ago. Even when I got sick, the worst I felt was uncomfortably queasy. I look carefully at the blood, wondering how it could feel so warm. I try closing my eyes, but the image won't fade.

I feel a great heat by my leg, and open my eyes to the burned field. My palm closes around the remains, and I shudder as I take in the thick, smoky air. Prinplup has managed to put out any flame of concern, and Leo appears to have finished off any surviving undead. He looks at me skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "What just happened to you? You were just staring off…" His eyes are surprisingly wide and vibrant, alive from the excitement of our first battle on the road. "You're lucky Scout was paying attention."

Looking down at my partner, I see that she's gathered quite a large pile of corpses beside her. She looks worried, but simply nods when I quietly thank her. I hold my crowbar in both hands, examining it carefully. It doesn't appear bent or broken, just covered in a thick layer of carnage. "Are they all gone?" Leo asks, and I nod swiftly without looking at him. Swarms always travel and attack in two waves, so once the second true wave is defeated the battle is over. We've scared off any more, at least for now.

I steady my weapon against my shoulder, and walk over to the now-scorched oak tree. The first casualty of our journey. The branches are covered in blackness, white pieces of ash falling off like leaves. From within the scarred limbs comes a small, hesitant rustling. Curious, I use my crowbar to hold aside the pieces blocking the source of the shuffling from view. Tinkerbell lies hidden among the boughs, shivering in fear. I reach my hand out to her, this time not offering any food. She's seen what we can do; if she wants our protection then that should be what she comes with us for.

She stares back at me for a long time before stepping closer and lightly pecking my index finger. I wince slightly, but don't move. She climbs carefully into my hand, her sharp claws pricking my skin. I pull her gently out of the tree, taking into full view the contrast between the little bird in my hand and the blood that coats it just beneath her feet. She can smell it, but doesn't seem to mind. She buries her head in my hand, and I reach into the side pocket of my backpack as carefully as possible.

The Pokeball is smooth in my hand, but cold from being kept in my bag for so long. I hold it out above her, and press the button on the front of it. After a few brief seconds of loading, I smile when it enlarges and comes to life. I press the button again, and a bright red light engulfs Tinkerbell. The ball shakes once in my hand before making a loud click.

TINKERBELL HAS JOINED THE TEAM.

Name: Tinkerbell

Starly, Female

Normal/Flying

Bold nature, scatters things often.


	5. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR: FEATHERS

For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I actually have the power to choose which path my life will take. Staying alone may mean that I die, but at least it will be my own decision. I've seen what waits for me in the forest, the horrible creatures that stick to the shadows and strike when their prey grows tired. I've managed to survive so far, but my wings are hurt and my feathers are too thin to help me escape from those that would harm me. Taking the step to follow these strange people may mean that I survive, but I will be under their control.

I wasn't alive when the first outbreak took place. My mother and father carried our entire nest away from what they claimed was a beautiful meadow where the air always smelled sweet and the prey was always plentiful. Whole nests are not meant to be taken such distances, and it proved too heavy and unwieldy for them to bring us to their safer birthplace just south of here.

They put us down in a tall evergreen, far from the mysterious hoard of Bidoof that kept to the forest floor and attacked anything that strayed too close. I was born to the silence of death, the world around me devoid of any feeling besides pure, ravenous hunger. My parents hated passing such an empty world on to their children, but had no other choice. They were strong in the face of our weakness and confusion, bringing us whatever food they could deem safe to eat. The lack of reasonable nutrition stunted my growth, keeping me less than half the size of a normal Starly.

My siblings didn't fare much better, and two of them died within the first few days of their life. I hardly knew them, and beyond a strange sense of loss I hardly felt anything when I came to realize they were gone. All I can remember was the way my parents continued on without slowing, determined to get us ready to survive on our own. They brought us food the same as always, and my remaining siblings and I were happy with our larger shares.

We began fledging soon after that. The first day we were pushed from our nests was the first time I felt genuinely scared. I plummeted toward the earth, toward starving red eyes and dark yellow fangs staring at me, barking for my flesh. They grew larger and larger, their matted fur coming into clear focus. Something grasped me from above, and I craned my neck to see my father's stern, closed beak. He brought me back up to the nest and pushed me to the edge to being the process all over again.

The fear came to fade. With each fall I learned to fly, my father or mother dropping down to catch me whenever I came too close to the ground. Over the next few days my wings became stronger and my feathers grew in thicker. My body was abnormally small, but my wings were abnormally large. Gliding came easy, and it wasn't long before I was strong enough to pull myself up from a dive. My siblings and I could move from tree to tree with ease, malnutrition doing nothing to deter our bodies from getting us into the sky.

It was all too good to last. The other Pokémon in the forest eventually noticed how very easy we Starly are to kill, and when the first swarm came they were quick to take advantage of my family. That morning began with small droplets of rain from the great grey expanse above us, and large, bulging storm clouds rolling in from the horizon. The air was thick with static, the pressure keeping us in the little hollow we'd made our home.

My parents stood at the entrance, watching carefully for predators. I shivered, my wings pulled in tight against my body in a vain effort to keep me warm. We could hear the rain worsening, falling faster and harder. But behind the noise of the storm was a sound both familiar and alien to us. My heart began racing instinctively, my siblings and I moving closer together in uncertain fear. Thunder burst through the air, briefly masking the threatening sound.

My father struck first, making a loud cry as lightning lit up his body. I saw a glimpse of glowing red eyes between my parents' heads, and watched in stunned silence as my father slammed a massive, bleeding Starly against the tree. A second made its way for my mother, who slashed at its face and sent it plummeting to the ground. They spread out their wings to make themselves seem more threatening, but to the undead they were only larger targets. The mass that came for us only became greater, lit up by sudden bright flashes of light. A tree not far from us caught fire, the rain doing little to douse the flames.

Soon my parents had no choice but to step further out on to the branch that led to our hollow. They kept close, but couldn't get a good enough range of motion when they stood in front of us. Thunder tore through the noise of the hoard, the rain coming down in a torrent. The Starly continued to attack my parents, who were struggling now to keep them at bay. The rain made their feathers heavy and the branch wet. I saw my father's talons begin to slip as a group of undead converged on him. He fought against them clumsily, crying out as one bit deep into his right wing. My mother screeched, but was too busy with her own assailants to come to his aid. His claws slid off the branch, and he fell. Lightning once again filled the air, red eyes piercing the darkness, diving for us.

My mother moved back to shield us, her wings spreading out so wide and far that we could see nothing of the world beyond her body. Her screams mingled with the rolling thunder, undead Starly tearing through her outstretched wings. We could see their beaks poking through, screeching as they continued to fly toward us. She vanished suddenly, and the hoard with her. We watched in horror as she took off, flying upward into the storm. The wave followed her, grabbing on to her wings and body as she pushed upward. A jagged stream of light lit up the forest, passing through her body and setting the tree aflame. We started squawking loudly, running out onto the branch to avoid the fire travelling downward through the tree.

We saw our mother's body falling through the air, heading straight for the relentless layer of Bidoof waiting below on the forest floor. Her predators followed her blindly, some paralyzed, some not. The wave turned its attention to us, diving through the air for my siblings and I.

But a sudden, incredible light filled the air; a greater beam than any bolt of lightning, tearing upward through the sky from the lake just a few miles away. The hoard turned around without warning, clumsily flying back to wherever they'd come from. A great rumble broke the sound of the rain, and a massive burst of pressure sent my siblings and I falling off the branch.

I was too light to fall straight down, and the blast pushed me into a tree a number of meters away. I landed on a thin branch before blacking out instantly, never to see any member of my family again.

I awoke some unknown amount of time later to a bright and shining sun. It offered no heat, nor did it lift the enormous weight of loss I felt. The next few days were spent gliding from branch to branch, my wings still too hurt to truly fly anywhere. I searched desperately for my family, hoping to see them in every shadow, around every tree. But they were gone.

The forest had become safer. The Starly hoard had long left, and the ever-present Bidoof were nowhere to be found. The loneliness was thick and crushing, but at least I was alive. I began to head toward where I had seen the great beam of light that saved my life, making the short journey to Lake Verity a multi-week process. There was another hollow there, much smaller and less comfortable than the one I once called home. It would have to do.

I tried to make myself comfortable, spending every night with one eye open. I could hardly feel anything, choosing to swallow my hurt rather than display it. A young girl came to visit me one day, and I decided to follow her. She smelled of blood and infection, but I hardly cared. Her coat was warm like my mother's feathers, and I deluded myself into thinking that stormy morning had never happened. I would bury my head into her chest, and pray for better days.

And now: come with us or risk dying on your own.

I see honesty in his eyes, and a certain hardness typical of those who've chosen to stand up rather than lie down. He reaches his hand for me, and for a long while I just stare at it and breathe in the scent of blood. He destroyed the hoard that destroyed my family. These people can protect me, and by allowing him to control me I am allowing him to keep me alive. I know, with a sudden, intense confidence that I don't want to have responsibility with own life. I want to trust someone, to have companions and protectors.

I peck at him and he doesn't pull away. With a deep breath, I gather up all my courage and step into his hand.


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE: A PLACE TO DISAPPEAR

By now the sun is well into its long descent, taking whatever small amount of heat it contributed to the day with it to the other side of the world. Bright orange and violet mingle in the sky as the first brave stars begin their nightly vigil. They shine down at us from spaces high above the forests, places far beyond the mountains and oceans. They feel nothing, can't even see us from where they burn so impossibly far away. I want to watch them forever, keep my eyes peeled to the sky where things are too far away to worry about. I could get lost in them, counting an endless supply of tiny dots for the rest of my life. If I look up, I don't have to look ahead. I know I can handle what lies before me, but I almost wish I couldn't. I blink hard, willing it all to go away. But we've come this far; we've known all along what could be waiting for us at our destination.

Twinleaf Town lies in complete ruin, burned to the ground long ago.

Leo and I stand at the entrance to Route 1 in stunned silence. We can see what remains of our houses from here, black piles of ash and crumbling ruins scattered about the dull brown landscape. The ground is marred with debris of all sorts, from burnt posts to rusty lawn chairs and unrecognizable PokeDolls. The trees immediately surrounding the town have deep black scars along their trunks. The once well-groomed path is now overly thin and misshapen, with weeds poking up through the ashes to starve any flowers that were once cultivated there. Chimney stacks rise like great spires from the rubble, immune to the power of fire but laughable against time and weathering. The occasional doorframe or stone wall breaks up the emptiness, and from here I can see a bathtub just barely poking out from the remnants of my hometown.

I swallow my anxiety, my steadfast denial of everything I'm seeing, and take the first steps into our old town. Leo doesn't stop or try to race me this time; he stays back and looks out into his childhood home with bleak, uncomprehending eyes. A thick layer of leaves crunches beneath my feet, unused to bearing so much weight. I walk out cautiously into the open ruins, watching every shadow for signs of movement. Scout is close to my side, the sound of her crackling tail accompanied only by the wind. This place means nothing to her, but as my partner she knows and at least partially understands how I feel.

Bending down, I take a small, decaying toy from the ground and examine it closely. Though it's covered in thick grime and has several limbs melted off, I recognize it as my own Carnivine action figure. I feel for a little button on the back, and press it several times, longing to hear it cry out its name. I take a deep breath, knowing full well there will only ever be silence.

Frustrated, I throw the toy back into the pile of debris. Scout perks her ears in concern, but doesn't question me. I'm not sure why it bothers me so much, but some part of me was just praying for that stupid thing to work. I just want a piece of home to function like it used to.

I continue down the little road, my feet instinctively taking me back to where my house once stood. I walk to where the front door was; raise my hand as if to turn the knob. There was a great big wooden door here, with an unnecessarily large knocker and obnoxious doorbell. I waited fourteen years of my life to stand on this doorstep facing the opposite direction, anxious to finally run away to Sandgem with Leo and get my first Pokémon.

I remember my mother telling me I would never survive. She was a shell of a woman, permanently bitter about her divorce and determined to keep me from being anything like my father. She was lucky; I could never grow up to be the man I don't remember. I begged her for years to let me get my trainer's license, to let me take battle classes at my junior high school. But "I would never be able to handle it". She kept me weak, insisted I was unable to protect or take care of myself in any way, shape, or form.

Leo and I decided from an early age that we would run away together. His parents encouraged him to become a trainer, but were never sure if he could deal with the responsibility. Even as a kid he was uncontrollable, always running from one place to the next without ever thinking about what he was doing. By the time he was eleven, he'd broken both elbows, had a minor fracture in his knee, and sprained his ankles several times each. My mother hated him because she thought he was "a bad influence" and blamed it on his parents. Apparently they had "loose morals" because his father was never around, though I guess she thought herself pious because her ex-husband was a "dirty, lying, unfaithful, cruel, demonic, jackass son of a bitch who couldn't treat a woman right for the life of him."

But I always gravitated toward Leo. He was fun, adventurous, and popular. Three things I could never even have hoped to be without him. With my mother, I was a quiet little kid who hated talking and would never stay up past his bedtime. With Leo, I got detention for talking out of turn and could stay up as late as I damn well pleased.

My hand drops down, balled into a fist. My nails dig into my palm until the cold makes it burn.

Ultimately, we did runaway. Professor Rowan made us go back, but he helped us with our licenses and eventually gave us our Pokémon. Pokémon that made us feel invincible. With Leo, my mother was an adversary. With Scout, she was just a nag. The last day I ever saw my mother, I gave her a stiff goodbye and she shook her head in response.

I walk through what would be the door way, imagining myself back at home so many years ago. I can smell something cooking, probably pasta or maybe vegetables. The television is on, and my mother is sitting in front of it. She ignores me. Our cook is the one making dinner, and she gives me a hug and asks how my day was.

We make small talk and I go upstairs into my room. I kick aside some debris, closely examining the remnants of my bedroom. I lift up a board that must have been part of my bed, and try to find some proof that it was mine. I scratch off some of the ash, breathe on the little pieces that fly around. But as far as I can tell I've left no mark on this plank.

I throw it to the side and collapse in the pile. Burying my face between my knees, I wrap my arms around my legs and draw them up towards my chest. All I can smell is the ash. I focus on it, refusing to think about anything else. There is only the smell of fire, and there is only darkness. How terrible it is to use fire. How wonderful it is to burn. I live for the smell of smoke and the sensation of heat, both at my side and in my veins. There is a part of me that longs only to destroy what destroys, to set fire to fire and burn that which burns others. But a much more powerful piece only wants to start the flames and smell the smoke. I cannot hate the smell of ash, because it is the smell of my future. I made a contract with fire the day I chose Scout as my partner, and I must honor that contract until the moment I die.

Heat envelopes me, a great warmth blowing into my face. I look up, and realize that I'm having an existential crisis over the smell of ash. Scout kneels before me, her face a mixture of concern and confusion. "I have to stop doing this." I murmur, which only confuses the Fire-Type more. I shift so that I'm sitting with my legs crossed, and I reach out to scratch behind Scout's ear. She's skeptical at first, but nonetheless closes her eyes and puts her head in my lap.

"I don't understand why all this has happened Jay." I crane my neck, taking in Leo's wide eyes and grim expression. He's playing with the end of his sleeve, something he only does when he's under stress. "I mean…why would the League just let an entire town burn to the ground? How could they not send any help?" His voice breaks, and he doesn't look at me. The setting sun is casting dark shadows across his face, obscuring it from my view as he shifts nervously.

"I wish I knew," I try to speak as nonchalantly as possible, but I can't keep a bit of pain from peeking through my words. "We won't know until we get to Jubilife, probably." I wish I had a real answer for him, that I could just say "Well the entire League is dead so obviously they won't be of much help to anyone," but I can't. Neither of us knows anything about what's happened beyond Sandgem. The rest of the country could very well be thriving; maybe this whole undead mess was restricted to Jubilife, Oreburgh, Sandgem, and Twinleaf. We might be in a massive quarantine and have absolutely no idea. Scout rubs her head against my abdomen, and I can't help but feel a little better from the warmth of her body.

Leo falls silent for a long time before sitting down beside me. We've done this before, just sat on the floor of my room, too tired to do anything mildly productive. But back then my room wasn't on the ground floor, and my furniture wasn't lying in a burned heap all around us. I lay back, and Scout makes a spot for herself beside me. Leo sits cross-legged, watching the sky carefully. His head is in his hands, elbows pressed into his knees.

"Leo," I say suddenly, making him jump. "Where's Prinplup?" I didn't notice until now that the Penguin Pokémon had vanished. He's so quiet that I don't notice when he does much of anything.

My friend raises an eyebrow at me. "In his Pokeball?"

"Oh," I answer simply, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sometimes I forget that other people can actually put their starter into a Pokeball, and just assume they don't have one like Scout. Though after spending four years locked in a cage with the two of them I should really have that down.

After a little while I decide to take out some bread and prepare my sleeping mat. I toss the bread to Scout for her to distribute, and spread my mat out on the flattest part of the pile. I haven't slept on this mat in four years, yet I haven't forgotten how incredibly uncomfortable it is. It's basically just a bright blue yoga mat with a little more padding, and is technically called a "Trainer's Mat." I pull out my tiny pillow and thick blanket too, placing them on the edge of the mat. Scout hands me a piece of bread, and Leo hands me some slices of unmeat. I take both graciously and make myself a small sandwich. Just that will be enough to last me through the night.

I call Tinkerbell out of her Pokeball, and give her a very small piece of bread to nibble on. Starly don't need much food in general, and given her current state, breaking off a piece any larger than my thumb would make her sick. She eats it slowly like me, savoring every bit. Afterwards she sits down next to Scout, warming herself by the Monferno's tail.

Everyone seems to be getting tired, so I give Scout my blanket and pillow to sleep on top of and she curls up on my mat. We return Prinplup and Tink, placing their Pokeballs near Scout. Leo lies down on his mat and mumbles goodnight. I tell him the same, getting myself comfortable for the first watch of the night. I've always taken first watch, with Scout taking second and Leo usually arguing with Prinplup for any time after that.

Going by the light of Scout's tail, I pick out a spot close to the others with relatively little debris. The darkness now surrounds us, the forest almost entirely quiet. The only noise to be heard is that of the Kricketots, hidden from their undead brethren beneath the leaves and the ruins of Twinleaf Town.


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX: STEADY YOUR HAND

The undead are upon us. The air fills with the sound of screeching Bidoof, blood red fangs gleaming in the moonlight. They come in a massive swarm, hundreds of rodent Pokémon bolting out of the forest. The ruined town lies before them, passive to the well-being of its former children. Their fur is suitably matted and coated in blood, organs poking out from torn flesh.

Scout and Leo flank me on either side, prepared for the worst. The bright stars above bathe them in cool, weak light. Scout unleashes an incredible stream of white-hot flames, creating a thick line between us and the undead. The horde surges onward through the flames, leaving those that perish behind. The fastest one leaps toward Leo, aiming for his face. He drives his weapon deep into its skull, tossing the body callously to the flames. A bright light pours from his waist, and a great burst of water sends the next few Bidoof flying backward into the oncoming drove.

I brandish my crowbar, feeling sweat gather on my neck as the flames and assailants converge on us. I slash five or so out of the air as they jump for me, getting one caught on the end of my weapon. It screams at me, trying to use its decaying front legs to climb towards me. I slam it to the ground with enough force to split open its skull, then swing the body back into the air to take out another as it jumps for me. Both land in the fire several feet away.

I feel Scout's body against my leg, and look down to see that she's allowed a large crowd to gather before her. She crouches down, one arm straight back behind her with the other pressed firmly to the ground. Generating a great flame around her arm, she brings it forward so that it doesn't quite touch the rubble below. Her strong legs suddenly propel her into her own flames, blazing through our enemies and sending Bidoof flying through the air. She breathes heavily, her face hidden from my view.

Something flashes before my eyes, and I whip around to slam my crowbar into a crowd of ravenous Bidoof. Something latches onto my leg, and I press my other foot so hard against it that blood and gore splatter against my pants. I start to slam my crowbar down into the ones on the ground, destroying the skulls as fast as I can. Their screams of pain and insanity drown out anything else, driving me to keep fighting them. To kill the sound.

Another foolishly aims for my face, and I impale it on my weapon. I stare into its glowing amber eyes, surprisingly alive for something so horrible. I push forward harder, blinking hard as blood spatters across my face. It coughs a few times, blood spilling out of its mouth and onto my jacket. Its fur is lighter than that of the others, its flesh relatively intact.

A terrible scream rips through my brain, and I drop the crowbar to the ground. It remains implanted deep in the Bidoof's neck, making a loud clang against some metal remnant of my house. Scout is covered in the horrible creatures, their yellow fangs digging deep into her body, relishing in the taste of healthy skin. She screams again, her eyes wet with tears and wide with pain. Blood spurts out of her mouth, the swarm burying her beneath it.

I try pulling the starving beasts off of her, blood and grime burying itself beneath my nails. More keep coming, ripping my beloved partner's body to shreds. They begin to turn their attention on me, but I pay them no mind. Scout is the only thing that matters, and I have to save her. By now her screams have stopped, and sharp fangs are biting into my arms and legs. Pain overcomes me, but I can't stop trying to save Scout. My hands are useless; trembling and numb in the cold and the pain. They are just pieces of meat, serving no purpose but that of bringing my partner back.

The demons begin pulling me back, away from Scout and from the last thing I've ever cared about. I cry out into the frenzied night, my voice drowned out by the cacophonic chorus of the swarm. I reach pathetically to my left, grasping my crowbar faintly. It is too heavy for me to pull, and in my last moments of consciousness I see the last thing I managed to kill.

Leo's empty amber eyes stare back at me, blood dripping from his mouth as the Bidoof tear into his body. They pull the organs from his stomach, their maws drenched in blood. His body shakes a bit from their rabid movement.

Something echoes in my head, a strange voice that speaks in a language I've never heard, but one I understand completely.

_Everything happens for a reason, Jay._

I wake with sweat plastered to my forehead, my heart pounding against the walls of my chest. I sit up, panting and trying to shake the last vestiges of the nightmare from my mind. The air is incredibly cold, but my entire body feels feverishly hot. I rub my face furiously with my hands, willing the images to go away.

"Everything okay?" I move my hands from my face, and blink into the dark, moonless night. Leo sits about a meter away from me, the flame of Scout's tail reflecting the concern in his eyes. My mind flashes back to his pallid face lying in the debris, blood dripping from his mouth as life abandons his body. "You look really sweaty…"

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Just a nightmare," I manage to stammer out, my mouth full of cotton. It's over. None of that was real. The past day was the first I spent out on the road in a long time; it's only natural that I should have some sort of reaction. I lay back and press the palms of my hands into my eyes, pushing down so hard that it starts to hurt. Scout lies beside me, her body heat doing nothing to cool me down. I spread my arms out high above my head, staring up at the stars. Something hard and a little sharp pokes at my arms through my jacket, and I groan loudly.

I can't fall asleep, not in this state. I toss my blanket over Scout and stand up on the uneven ground. My legs nearly give way beneath me, but after a few moments of pitiful staggering I get my footing. Carefully watching the mountain of crap determined to make me fall on my face, I walk over to Leo and stand beside him. He looks up at me, one dark blonde eyebrow raised, but doesn't say anything.

We're like this for a long time. The forest on the other side of our ruined town is silent, filled with horrible creatures waiting in the dark without food or reason. The moment we hear a breath too loud, a rustle too unnatural to be the wind, we must wake up and fight. This strategy followed us for almost six months during the first outbreak, when we foolishly chose to fight our way back to Twinleaf.

We only got as far as Sandgem, where the Professor was kind enough to take us in. Without him we surely would have died a long time ago. Our journey made us weak, stripped us of all but our first Pokémon. Scout was suffering from a very high fever, and the Professor brought her back to perfect health. I feel a bit of guilt at leaving without really telling him, and make a mental note to apologize if we ever get back.

Suddenly cold, I sit down next to Leo and huddle with him for warmth. He accepts my presence, but doesn't share his blanket with me. I wasn't really expecting him to; I wouldn't if I were in his position.

"What happened earlier today?" He asks abruptly, making me jump. "I mean, I know we fought all those Starly and you caught a Pokémon and yay for you and everything, but…how did you know you needed to, uh, get rid of that kid?"

He doesn't need to speak so carefully, but I don't bother him about it. "She said she couldn't remember anything and that she felt really hot. As far as I know, and I admit I'm no expert, those are sort of big red flags."

Leo shakes his head ever so slightly, biting his lip. "Yeah, but…she might've just been injured, or sick, or something. I guess, I mean, I don't really know what I'm saying." He put his face in his hands, dragging them backward towards his ears to wipe off filth and exhaustion.

"I figured." I answer quietly, not wanting to stay on the subject any longer. He's trying to make me question what I did, but I refuse to. I can't afford to worry about little things all the time. If I don't keep my focus on the here and now, I will get myself killed.

We don't say anything for the rest of our shift, and after two or so hours Leo wakes up Prinplup and climbs back to his mat. I lie down too, but don't expect to fall asleep. Instead I just wait for the sun to tug itself over the horizon, trying my hardest not to think about anything.


	8. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN: EPHEMERAL

I rub my hands together, wishing desperately for a pair of gloves. It seems like it's only gotten colder from last night, and I have to consciously prevent myself from grabbing Scout and burying my hands in her fur. My back aches from lying on the uneven ground for so long, and I think I have a migraine from lack of sleep. I crouch down and put my hands between my legs, willing my body to offer up some heat. Leo and Prinplup stand a few feet away, gathering their supplies. The Water-Type yawns deeply and takes a step back, tripping on a random piece of metal lodged into the pile of debris. Leo helps his partner up, quickly looking him over for any signs of injury.

"We should get moving." I remark simply, watching the two screw around. We'd told Dawn four months maximum, but it's pointless to make her and the Professor wait if they don't have to. I want to get Tink somewhere relatively sane as soon as possible to get her some real medical attention. I may not have caught one before, but I'm pretty sure Starly are supposed to be much bigger than she is now. If she's not fit for the journey, I want to leave her in capable hands.

"Right, well, okay, hold on." Leo begins stuffing things in his bag, disregarding the careful way we'd packed everything before so all of our belongings stayed intact. He tries to zip it, fails miserably, and is forced to unpack again. He dumps his bag out into Prinplup's waiting arms, and the Penguin Pokémon staggers a bit from the weight before managing to regain his balance. It feels like hours before they've gotten themselves together.

"This isn't like you, Leo. Usually you're the one trying to get me to pick up the pace." We decided to head towards the southernmost part of the town, where there was a perfectly clear natural pool lying just outside the forest. We went there all the time as kids, mostly because my mother thought it was full of AIDs.

"I guess we're just off to a weird start," he smirks at me, tired but smiling. "Though we weren't the ones having weird-ass nightmares last night."

I roll my eyes and don't bother responding. I succeeded in blocking those images from my mind all night, and I don't enjoy having them brought up again. It wasn't the first awful nightmare I've ever had; I get them every few months or so. They always show me my loved ones dying, though before now it'd only been scenes built from my memory. I've probably watched my old Zubat die ten times, completely unable to save her even once. Though he's died many times before, this was the first time I actually killed Leo myself. It was a nice touch.

Scout walks beside me silently, a strange paranoia wild in her eyes. Worried, I awkwardly reach down and scratch behind her ear. She glances up at me, but doesn't respond. "Something wrong, Scout?" She shakes her head a bit and takes a few hurried steps ahead of me. Instantly nervous, I start after her. Leo grabs my arm tightly, yanking me backward.

"No fair; she already got a head start." He bolts forward without another word, racing toward the pool. Scout sees him run past and starts yelling after him. He turns back, laughing loudly, "Come on! You gotta be faster than that!" Prinplup clumsily follows after his trainer, leaving me alone in the back of the group.

Something keeps me from moving forward. My entire body feels heavy, glued to the ground. I can't focus on any one thing, and my mind goes blank. Scout screams after Leo, but he only stops when he gets to the pool. He turns around, still laughing at us, and mocks us all for being too slow. "Now who needs to get moving?" He calls out to us. His voice echoes in my brain, bouncing off the walls of my skull. He's moving and speaking in slow motion, every gesticulation exaggerated. I feel as if I have no control over what happens anymore, as if I'm watching this scene from somewhere far away. Something massive bursts out of the pool, blood dripping into the water and onto the ground. The splash covers Scout, who just stops and stares in horror at the magnificent beast. Leo's eyes widen, and he freezes up like a Bidoof startled by the beam of a flashlight.

The massive, bloodied Gyarados roars to the heavens, its black fangs covered in gore. Huge sections of its scales are worn off, revealing dark patches of flesh underneath. From here I can see its brain spilling out of a hole in its skull, leaking out to fill the pool below. Leo is facing it now, still stunned at the terrible sight. The monster's bright eyes glow a deep red, brilliant purple veins shining out from within them. Leo's trembling hand reaches for his weapon, but he's nowhere near fast enough.

The Gyarados lunges for him, mouth wide open and excited for the kill. A voice breaks through the insanity, denying the sight before me. Scout starts to run at the beast, but she's too slow. Leo falls to the ground, covering his face with his arm. A powerful torrent of water blasts into the Gyarados's face, and it flinches. Prinplup stands before his trainer, body heaving with the effort of such a blast. The huge Pokémon screams in anger, lunging forward toward the two of them. Prinplup raises its left wing, now converted to a long steel blade. He leaps into the air, bringing his powerful wing down across the monster's face. Blood splatters outward as Prinplup bursts the Atrocious Pokémon's eye, enraging the beast even more. It falls back, head and neck flopping uselessly into the trees behind it. Prinplup lands hard in front of his trainer, crying out for more.

Scout's cry breaks me out of my stupor, and I shake my head furiously to bring myself back to the real world. I draw my crowbar and call Scout back to me, realizing I'll need a strategy if we ever hope to kill this thing. The beast seems to be refocusing, straightening itself up and emitting a deep growl of pure hatred from its throat. Prinplup strikes it again, slicing deep between the large, pale scales along its stomach. I order Scout to start hurling large pieces of debris in an attempt to distract it, and she runs toward the nearest pile. My crowbar feels heavier than usual, and I toss it from hand to hand so I can get a better sense of the weight.

Satisfied, I race forward. Electricity surges through me, and I smile as familiar excitement pushes raw energy to my legs. My hands slide to the end of my crowbar, and I raise it behind me like a javelin as I near the monster. Something hard slams into it just before I drive my weapon as deep as I can into the Gyarados's decaying body. My muscles burn as I grasp my crowbar and pull, hard. It slides out with more ease than it should, coated in a thick layer of blood. The Atrocious Pokémon turns toward me, lurching down with its mouth wide open. My entire body shakes with fear, but I hold my ground. When the undead beast is close enough, I push my weapon upward through the roof of its mouth. It cries out in confusion, and I jump back, making sure my crowbar comes with me. The Gyarados sways backward, struggling to continue the fight. Another strange, heavy object slams into one of its open wounds. I risk a glance back at Scout; briefly marveling in her ability to lift a massive, thoroughly destroyed TV set high above her head.

I figure the beast can't have much more strength left in it. Most undead can't survive a direct hit to the brain, much less being impaled through their skull. I take a moment to swipe my weapon back, creating an arc of blood in the long-dead grass. The sun hides partially behind the Gyarados, a bright flare interrupting my sight. The monster swings back and forth, enduring repeated hits form Scout and Prinplup with ease. Leo is on his feet, weapon in hand, but doesn't appear to be doing much.

Heat still fills my body, and I'm grateful for the feeling. Though the sun is inching its way across the sky, the air is still painfully cold. I clench and unclench my fists, toss my weapon up and try to catch it with just one hand. A harsh breeze blows through me, and it takes me a moment to realize it brought my hat with it. Annoyed, I chase it several meters away. It lands at the top of a chimney, and I sigh in frustration. A terrible cry pierces the dead town, a scream made purely of grief and fear. My heart skips a beat, the sound planting itself deep in my brain.

But what I hear is nothing compared to what I see. The monster, now little more than a massive, crudely sewn together mess of what was once a Gyarados, has fallen to the beach, its head just inches from Leo's feet. The lower half of Prinplup's body is lodged between its teeth, the Water-Type's blood and guts spilled across the sand. Leo kneels beside his partner in complete silence, shaking terribly. Scout stands farther away, her mouth hung open in horror.

I'm beside my best friend in seconds, kneeling before his broken partner in the sand. Scout stands next to me, her eyes wet with tears. Leo just sits there and stares at the body, face filled with pain. I try to apologize, to tell him that everything will be okay, but he isn't listening. He just kneels in the sand, completely stunned. Scout sits quietly, struggling to stay as stoic as ever. But her fist is clenched tightly, and her tail has become a massive blaze.

We sit there for a very long time. I try to comfort Leo by putting my arm over his shoulder, but he shrugs me off. After a while Scout and I decide to make a fire and set up a camp. We watch cautiously when Leo gets up and walks away. He reaches into one of the many piles and takes out several bricks. He walks back to the camp, where he starts digging with his bare hands. I hand him a shovel from one of the piles, and he takes it without a word. Scout heats the ground to make it easier to dig into, and again receives no acknowledgement. He digs deeper than he needs to, determined to make his Pokémon the grave it deserves.

We bury what remains of Prinplup later that day. By this time the sun has alright begun its downward climb, and I doubt we'll be moving anytime soon. We leave the Gyarados's body lying on the shore, choosing to deal with it before we go to bed. Scout creates a huge bonfire, and we toss his PokeBall in. At first it just lays there, indifferent to the flames. But as the heat worsens, the PokeBall begins to crack and sputter. A bit of smoke pours out of it, the tiny screens inside making tiny explosions within the fire. It melts as it sits there, turning to a mess of plastic, glass, and alloy. Leo is silent the whole time, his tears glistening in the light.


	9. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT: CHANGING THE LOCKS

The ruins lighten around me, the tired morning sun crawling out from behind the forest. I rub my hands together; hold them out in front of me toward the flames. Prinplup's funeral pyre has died down to a small campfire, fueled by planks of wood dug out from within the remnants of our houses. I watch it dance energetically, sending wisps of heat to my face and chest. I am thoroughly exhausted from last night, from struggling to keep my eyes open for the past couple of hours. The forest is as silent as usual, completely still in the cold air. My knees are tucked under me in the most uncomfortable position I can manage, a slight numbness spreading down to my feet. The charred Gyarados corpse lies in the dead grass not far from the pool, its limp tail dangling in the still water.

Leo went to bed early last night, leaving Scout and I to divide up the shifts. We burned the Gyarados corpse and dragged it out of the pool a bit, making sure to destroy its brain completely before leaving it to rot. Our bonfire burned huge and bright, and coupled with the reek of the decaying beast was sure to keep the undead at bay. I tried talking to Leo before he fell asleep, but he just ignored me and closed his eyes.

Morning is here and we need to leave soon. After seeing what horrid creatures could live in that pool I have no interest in sticking around to see what else lurks in the darkness. However, I know that from here on out things will only get worse. Route 201 is well-known for having weak Pokémon, but eventually we'll have to come across monsters far worse. Gyarados are some of the largest Pokémon in the region, but that doesn't mean we won't meet things stronger, faster, or much more horrifying.

We've lost one partner so far –what more grief awaits us on our journey? And after losing so many during the first outbreak….

I close my eyes tightly; squeezing them shut so hard it hurts. I can't think about my old friends. They're gone, and I'll never be able to get them back. I've already felt the ache of loss and the sting of failure, and I know I'll feel it again. Prinplup was one of our greatest allies, and I promise to never forget him, but it's imperative we keep moving forward.

"Leo," I grasp his arm, tight but not enough to cause him any pain. "Come on, we're got to leave. You too, Scout." Leo doesn't move, and I give him a little shake. No response. Scout gets up quickly and begins to pack our things, careful rolling the mat so it fits into my backpack. "Leo, seriously. Get up." I try not to be annoyed with him as I know he's under a lot of stress, but we have to make the most of the daylight. He slowly turns over to look at me, his eyes bloodshot and underlined by deep, dark circles.

I feel guilty for trying to push him. We've both lost so much, and I can't imagine what I'd do if Scout died. He and Prinplup were closer than any pair I'd ever seen; it's hard to visualize one without the other. He looks absolutely miserable, just staring up at me with his dead, empty eyes. We sit there for a while, waiting for each other to move. He eventually relents and sits up slowly, rubbing his worn face with his shaking hands. I ask him if he's feeling any better, but he continues to ignore me.

We're back on the road after a few minutes of packing. Scout walks solemnly by my side with Leo a meter or so behind us. He doesn't speak or look up from his feet, caring little about what happens around him. I keep an eye on him as best I can, making sure he doesn't do anything dumb. He stops walking when we reach the exit to Route 201, turning around to say goodbye to his first Pokémon for the last time. Long morning shadows drag out the ruins of our abandoned town, creating deep, dark lines from one end to the other. Though we can't see it from where we're standing, we know the corpse of Prinplup's murderer lies on the other end of town, charred and broken. My mind flashes briefly back to my nightmare, and the same strange voice echoes in my head.

_Everything happens for a reason, Jay. _

Leo turns to me so suddenly that at first I think he might have heard it too. He starts to speak, then closes his mouth and shakes his head slowly. "Jay, I-", he stammers, struggling to grasp his words. I watch him concernedly, his broken amber eyes gleaming with hurt. "I don't want this to ever happen again." His voice is very quiet, barely audible over the near-silent wind. He shakes his head again, playing with the sleeve of his jacket. "I mean, I…can't go any further with you. This was stupid and I-"

I feel a spark of rage in my chest, and my next words make him flinch. "No. You said we'd do this together. This… this was your idea! You can't just give up now. We've been through so much; we're going to run away together! Leo you…you can't just stop!" He seems so genuine in his words that I have trouble finding mine. The very idea of continuing this journey without him terrifies me, and I refuse to accept it.

"But, Jay, I…" He steps back, all of a sudden looking very, very small. He raises his hoarse voice, struggling against its urge to break. "That's exactly why we can't do this. Let's just wait…another couple weeks like Dawn said, maybe. Or- or even a year! None of this makes any sense. We barely survived the trip from Oreburgh to Twinleaf four years ago, how do you expect us to…to navigate this entire country without getting killed?"

"Four years ago! We were fourteen, Leo. We're stronger and smarter now. We know how to fight and we know how to survive." Sharp pangs of betrayal run through my body, and my voice turns desperate. "I-I can't even believe you're saying this!" I refuse to give up on this journey, to back out of our decision, but how can I survive without him? In making his choice, he's making mine. "We've dealt with loss before. We kept moving then, we knew what we'd face and we knew we had to-"

He shakes his head rapidly, his voice cracking miserably as he speaks. "It's not even about that. We thought things would be safer now, but they aren't. We've seen just as many zombies as we did before…" He trails off, looking down at his feet. "I just…I don't want anyone else to die for us, Jay."

I look down as well, my cheeks burning as the indignation wears off. We promised we wouldn't give up. We said that we'd make this happen together. I know what he means, that he's just concerned for our safety but…we have to be stronger than that. We've gotten this far, turning back now would be to admit defeat. I glance over at Scout, who has remained silent the entire time. Would I want to keep moving if she were killed? Her face is somber, her dark eyes locked on me. She's been there for me every step of the way, but I can't ask her to keep risking her life for something if it's really just a foolish dream. My chest burns, and I swallow hard. I want to find survivors, to help people in need. But I guess I have to help myself first.

I nod silently and take a deep, exaggerated breath. "Ok, we'll…stop when we get back to Sandgem." My voice is just as low as his was when he first brought up the subject. I don't want to give up on this, but I can't do it without him.

He smiles for the first time in twenty-four hours. "Thanks, Jay." He looks up at me, still gripping the sleeve of his jacket. Without warning, he lunges toward me and pulls me into a hard embrace. Confused, I slowly pat him on the back. He holds on for a bit too long, and I have to push him away.

"Let's just go." I say bitterly, turning back to Route 201.

The silence has become comforting, the lack of movement around us bringing with it a strange sense of safety. I let Tinkerbell out of her Pokeball, and she flaps weakly a few times before I'm forced to simply carry her. We make our way towards Sandgem, stopping only to eat some lunch. Scout sits next to me and Tinkerbell hops onto the ground. Leo seems happier than he was earlier, but he's still no ray of sunshine. I pass out bread, cheese, and unmeat, giving more than yesterday because it seems like everyone could use a little refreshment. I still give Tinkerbell very little, but she's grateful for it nonetheless. Prinplup never contributed much to our lunchtime conversations, but without him something's clearly missing.

I let Tinkerbell explore the area some after she's finished eating. She hops over to a rock, and pecks at it a couple times before using it to sharpen her claws. Leo, Scout, and I watch her in silence, which must make her feel uncomfortable after a couple minutes because she's quick to hop back over to me. She anxiously starts bouncing up and down, using her tattered little wing to point off to the left. I ask her what's wrong, and she starts up with a little chirping sound. Scout kneels down beside the Starly, listening intently to what the little flying-type has to say. She takes Tink into to her hands and starts walking away from us. Leo and I jump to our feet and follow them down a barely visible path.

I'm immediately nervous, and draw my crowbar as soon as we step off the road. Leo takes up the back, weapon raised to strike. Scout isn't reacting at all, just carrying the quietly chirping Starly further and further into the forest. Tinkerbell falls quiet suddenly, and my heart starts to race. They keep moving, heading for a pocket of light between two trees.

We emerge from the woods on to a beautiful lake, sprawling out far before us. Tinkerbell leaps from Scout's paws and glides a bit, landing carefully on the grass. A strange man stands before the glimmering water, looking out towards the rocky island in the middle. We can hear him talking quietly to himself, his body completely still. I give Leo a wary look, and he shrugs. It's entirely possible this man is insane, or even partially turned, so he may be giving in to the first stirs of madness.

Tinkerbell begins to back away from him, but it's too late. He bends down quickly and plucks her off the ground, making my heart stop. "Put her down." I order instinctively, worried only for her safety. The man turns to look at me, his face so devoid of emotion it sends chills down my back.

"This is your Starly? You should try to feed her better." He pulls her wing outward from her body, and she winces. "She's so small and weak." I tell him again to put her down, and but he ignores me. She shakes in his palms, completely terrified, and looks over to me for help. "Might I suggest an HP UP or two? They should help with her size." He leans down, gently letting her jump off his hand and scamper back to me. I take her up and hold her tightly in my arms, her tiny heart beating rapidly against the skin of my neck. "Do you two boys know the legend of this place?"

I narrow my eyes and tell we do but don't care. He chuckles without smiling. "You should. You see, Mesprit only protects those she thinks are worthy. Only people and Pokémon born in her domain are chosen, and should any of them come into danger she should do her best to protect them. It is surely an interesting way of dealing justice, is it not?" I don't respond because I want him to leave. There's something really off about this man, about his emotionless tone and strange way of speaking. Scout seems to agree, preparing herself to attack in case he does anything threatening.

"But it is, after all, merely a legend. She couldn't protect Twinleaf town, and she couldn't protect Sandgem. Surely, a true guardian must be able to keep those they've sworn to protect from turning into mindless beasts." He's looking straight through us now, making me feel horribly uncomfortable. Tinkerbell shifts in my grasp, nuzzling even closer to my face. I rub her back gently, trying in vain to calm her down. The man continues talking as if we weren't there. "Of course, everything happens for a reason. Those that died must simply have been deemed unworthy by the Guardian. And if a god decrees it, it must be true."

"That's stupid." Leo says suddenly, making me jump. The man barely takes notice, a shift of his eyes the only proof he saw Leo do anything at all. "Mesprit is no god. Those that died just…died. There's no deeper meaning or hidden moral-"

"I myself have found it true that only those who can live through a test like this are truly deserving of life. Otherwise, they are simply taking up space." The sunlight falls on the man's face in a way that makes him look genuinely menacing. He takes a few steps forward, and I back up to the edge of the forest. Leo doesn't move. "Space that, in this ruined, terrible world, could be better used to help nourish those that have been chosen to survive. Those that are…of a greater purpose." He walks past Leo so that his shoulder is beside mine. "The first shall be last and the last shall be first. It is those who survive and thrive on this starved planet that deserve to live a greater life. Those that survive like us."

He leaves us with that, vanishing into the forest and disappearing from our view in seconds. Leo stands fuming beside me, shaking his head furiously. "What a freak." He says simply, staring into the space where the strange man was only seconds ago.


	10. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE: THE FIRST DROP

Tinkerbell collapses, exhausted, when we finally come to the line between Route 201 and Sandgem Town. I bend down and pluck her off the ground, petting her soft feathers carefully. There's a strong sense of finality as we look out into the dying light of dusk, painting the small town before us in a dull orange haze. From here we came, and to here we have returned. Our journey has already brought us grief and suffering, already forced us to question our true motives for leaving this haven. I can tell Leo is glad to be back, though he shows no outward signs of happiness. Without his partner, he's lost the will to go on.

The grass beneath our feet is mostly dead, our footprints from three days ago pressed into it like we've been walking on the moon. I put my foot into one of the indentations, pressing down slightly to change its direction. These marks point toward Twinleaf Town, toward a place we will never venture to again. I wonder briefly what Leo is thinking, wonder how much he regrets ever leaving Sandgem.

_Keep each other alive._

I'm sorry, Dawn. We've failed you. You asked one small task of us, and we couldn't follow through. Now we see that you were right, that leaving has brought us nothing but pain and death. Perhaps we were too weak, or the undead were too strong. Either way, we've lost a member of our family and he will never be by our side again. What greater failure is there than to let your own brother die?

A tall, raggedly thin form emerges from within the lab. Leo, Scout, and I know immediately who waits for us, yet we don't run for him. We've failed him too. We left his home with our heads held high, but our tails between our legs –too cowardly to tell him we no longer wished to be under his care. We thought we could take care of ourselves, that we'd learned enough in eighteen years to survive without any adult intervention. If Prinplup's death is a sign of things to come, then surely we were wrong.

A part of me, bigger and more powerful than the part that controls logic and reason, wants to believe there is some other way. That this is just a mistake, an error in a story we can fix after some proofreading. That part wants to see this as merely the exception that proves the rule; a nonsensical argument that just might change my mind. For Leo, this is the end. But for me? If I choose the arrogant path, the self-righteous and stubborn route, then my journey is not yet over. I can continue to test my luck, to see how far I can go before the grief or my weakness becomes overwhelming and I'm forced to lie down and die.

The tall man begins walking toward us, faster with each step. He is wearing a thick brown jacket and stained, ill-fitting pants. As he comes closer I begin to see the deep lines of age on his face, the dark circles of exhaustion cratered beneath his eyes. He walks with a limp, and has disregarded his old cane. His left leg drags behind him, his steps short and erratic. The sight makes me think of an undead human, too slow to get anywhere at any remotely dangerous speed.

Leo takes a few steps forward, his somber expression beginning to break into something like regret. The Professor's pale grey eyes shine with tears, and I have to look away to hide my shame. He finally reaches us, wrapping his frail arms around our shoulders and holding us tightly. I blink hard, fighting valiantly against my own urge to cry. Tentatively, I put my arm around his side, gripping to his coat like a small child.

"I understand why you boys did this." Leo and I sit across from the Professor at the same dinner table we ate at for the past four years, hot tea in our hands and blankets around our shoulders. Rowan leans back in his chair, looking into his lap at his wrinkled hands. "I should have known. Even as children, you could never stay in one place for too long. I'm surprised you put up with us here, honestly." His voice is much quieter than usual, weak and a little hoarse. I never noticed how old he sounded until now. I've always pictured Rowan as he was when I first met him nearly six years ago, a much younger and more energetic man with plenty of vitality left in him. Now I see him as he is; an eighty-year-old man living in a sixty-six-year-old's broken body. "I remember when I met you boys back in Twinleaf, so long ago. You demanded I give you Pokémon; you told me you wanted to see the world and start a new life. I…I suppose this time I should've been more understanding."

I almost want him to yell at us, to punish us for running away. That would be easier than seeing him like this. The hurt is clear in his voice and his eyes, and we know he feels at least partially responsible for Prinplup's death. Yet it was our fault for leaving, and our fault for putting ourselves and our Pokémon in danger. He isn't guilty at all, but we don't know how to tell him that. Neither of us has spoken, showing Rowan the respect we didn't earlier. If he wants to talk, we need to let him talk.

"You boys…do you know what you mean to me? To Dawn? You are like my sons, and Dawn is like your sister." He puts his hands on the table now, fingers resting over the edge. "I only wish I'd talked to you about this. Yes, the-the undead are beginning to lose energy, and yes, they have avoided this place for quite some time. But…they are only staying away from here because they know we can stop them. They won't attack us because they have some vague memory of this place, and that memory prevents them from trying to destroy us. That said," He finally turns his gaze on us, his eyes cool and distant. "I don't want to discourage you boys from doing as you wish."

We are too stunned to speak. We'd assumed punishment; we'd assumed he'd want to keep us here forever. And we'd accepted that. The concept of him actually wanting us to see what lies beyond these walls, to continue risking our lives is nearly impossible to fathom. He has always told us to stay with him, to keep ourselves protected in the lab where he can watch over us. We figured for the past few years that he'd never want us to leave him under any circumstances.

He sighs heavily, shaking his head a bit. "You boys can't stay here for your entire lives. I see that now. From now on, you can come and go as you please. There will always be a place for you at this table." He stands up suddenly and limps off, leaving us to sit and think about what he's told us.

"I'm not going to say I told you so or anything like that." Dawn and Leo are in the next room over, though Dawn's voice is the only one I hear. She rarely has much to say to me, and I'm okay with that. She's always clung to Leo, staying up late at night talking to him and sharing her deepest secrets. So like any other talk she has with him, I make myself busy around the corner and eavesdrop. "I just think…I just want you to stay here now."

"That was the plan." His voice is barely audible, dragging itself through his throat in a struggling mumble. Something about the way he says it bothers me, as if now I know he's absolutely not going to change his mind. He would never lie to Dawn, and even if he's not quite sure of what he thinks, his innermost beliefs always come out around her. This simple admittance is hard to accept, this promise that he's made his decision and so have I.

"Good. I mean, I wouldn't try and force you to do something but…" she laughs with very little humor. "I guess I really want you to do this."

Leo is quiet for a long moment before answering. I hear him lean back, his chair creaking loudly. "I won't put you through that again, Dawn. I-I've already killed my best friend... I swear that, even if I have to stay here for the rest of my life, I'll never, ever hurt you and I will always protect you." His words are so earnest, so full of the childish sincerity I always remember him for, that I can't help but feel a sharp sting in my heart. This part of him is still there, hiding deep within him, but he'll never show it to me again. I thought this journey would bring us closer together, but it's only broken us further apart. My closest friend is gone now, and the child I've been longing to see again for so long has died alongside his first Pokémon. I see now that he could handle losing anything, as long as he still had his Prinplup.

His name escapes from Dawn's lips, soft and full of relief. I hear a chair shift and the rustle of clothing. She is allowed to see a person in him that I never will.

I kick my bed aside, ignoring the sharp pain that results from it. Our bedroom lies in complete darkness, a thick, dark curtain separating it from the moonlit hallway. I hurl my backpack against the wall and collapse into a frustrated heap on the floor. The same yearn for freedom still burns inside me, and no matter what I do I can't put it out. It would be logical, it would be rational, it would be _sane _to stay here and wait out the storm. Why do I want so badly to throw myself back out into the pouring rain?

Beyond these walls lies nothing but pain and heartache. Nothing but starvation and death. Nothing but arrogance and stupidity. I have seen –twice now- that I cannot survive out there. Or perhaps worse, that I cannot keep others alive either. I know I must swallow my grief and move on, but deep down lies the knowledge that Prinplup's death was primarily my fault. I am lazy and foolish. I called victory before my opponent was completely defeated, and left my frozen best friend and his valiant but outmatched Pokémon to fight a beast I could kill. I cannot say with any confidence that such a mistake will not happen again. By letting my guard down for just one moment I allowed my friend to be brutally murdered, and my other friend to lose faith in himself forever.

Giving up is the only option. There is nothing else I can logically do to keep myself and my Pokémon alive. They trust me to do the right thing, but I can't trust myself. My mind flashes back to my other partners, to the red hot tears that stung my face when, one after another, they were slaughtered before my eyes.

Laura, Arthur, Dracula, Beatrice...they were the loyalist of friends and I failed them all. They would never want me to continue, not after this. Not after losing yet another Pokémon due to my own carelessness. But how can I live here? My mind begins to come loose at the mere thought. Four more years? Eight more years? Who knows how long I could be stuck here, listening to the Professor slowly die while Dawn and Leo discuss their darkest secrets every freaking night.

I slam my fist into the ground. But staying here means I stay alive. Scout and Tinkerbell too. I want that to be enough. I want to live a rational and reasonable life, hidden away from the chaos and madness of the outside world. I crave logic, and I long for simplicity. This place is home and this place is sanity.

A bright light appears on the other side of the room, and I look up to see Scout standing at the doorway, her tail burning brilliantly in the dark. She watches me for a long time, examining her pathetic trainer crouched on the floor. I want to apologize for everything, to tell her I know I'm an awful trainer and I don't deserve her.

She kneels down beside me, and holds out both her hands. They flicker in the light of her tail, and I stare back at her in confusion. A quick, high-pitched burst of sound falls from her mouth, and she pushes her paws toward me. I sit up, reconfigure my body so that my back is to the wall, and lay my hands in hers. A small smile spreads across her little face, and she nods several times.

"What are you trying to tell me, Scout?" I ask her quietly, my voice low and hoarse. She looks toward the door, toward the window at the end of the hallway, and suddenly I understand her completely. I follow her gaze, staring out for a while before looking back at her. "Are you sure, Scout? I-I'm a terrible trainer." She frowns and shakes her head, squeezing my hands tightly.

_You've managed to keep me alive so far._

"Scout…" I hold her paws for one moment longer before pulling her against my chest and squeezing her tightly. She is all I need. With her, I am invincible.

END OF PART ONE


	11. Chapter Ten

PART TWO: STAY WITH ME 

CHAPTER TEN: RELENTING

The crowbar shines in the mid-morning light, my reflection obscured on its gleaming silver surface. I hadn't anticipated how long it would take to get all of the blood off, but I think I did a pretty decent job. There are a few scratches on it, but that's nothing new. It otherwise seems to be in excellent shape, which is good because I don't plan on changing weapons anytime soon. This pretty silver death machine has seen me through the worst of them, and I hope it'll see me through many more.

We've been back in Rowan's lab for a week now. Leo doesn't talk to me much, and Dawn doesn't seem to know I exist. The Professor just lies around and coughs all day, holed up in a spare room so whatever he has doesn't spread to the rest of us. But I have a bad feeling he's neither contagious nor curable.

I know I can't stay here. I've spent the last seven days catching up on sleep and stealing food from the basement and kitchen. The Professor knows what my plan is, and told me to do what I feel is right. I'm not going to tell Dawn and Leo until just before I leave, and I'm not sure how much they'll care anyway. Their indifference can't bother me; I have to just suck it up and get moving. I'll need all my concentration and courage to face whatever waits for me out there and dividing my attention will only get me killed.

I examine myself in the mirror, an act I generally try to avoid. My face is worn beyond my age, and even to me my eyes look harsh and serious. Numerous scars run up and down my bare arms, and I trace my finger over one absentmindedly. The worst of them starts on my shoulder and crawls around to my upper arm, deep and ragged. The scar itself hardly hurts anymore, but I still get chills when I remember how I got it.

Breathing in a shuddering breath, I shove the memory from my mind and pull a thick sweatshirt over my head. My hat comes next, tugged down so that it covers my ears. The four-year-old backpack I'll be using waits patiently on my bed, its insides perfectly organized to suit my needs. I don't want to bring too much, but I could be gone for years. It would be insane to think I could prepare for that long, but I should be okay without any sort of civilization for a few weeks. But if I don't see anything and I choose to keep wandering around in the wilderness, I'll just have to admit this was a terrible idea.

I hear the floor by the doorway creak, and look up to see Scout standing there, one foot in the room. She has her own backpack to help us bring some more supplies, including our first aid kit and another bottle or two of iodine tablets. She'll never have to worry much about the cold, but she has her own blanket anyway. She grasps my hand and starts to pull slightly, but I tell her to wait. This is probably the last time I'll ever see this room or this lab. I've done enough moping around and staring at everything, but I'm not ready to leave just yet.

My shoes are hiding beneath my bed, a little too small and rather uncomfortable. But they're the only ones I have, so I'm stuck with them. I'm wearing two layers of socks, so the shoes are even smaller than usual. I sit down on one of the beds and start trying to pull them on. Scout watches me struggling with them and decides to help. I pull, and she pushes. After a few seconds of zero progress she shouts in frustration, and I accidentally kick her in the face.

I apologize rapidly, trying to move her hands away from her nose to make sure I didn't do any damage. She shakes her head a few times, covering her face and shaking her arm in the air. "Damnit Scout, just let me get a look at it." She relents, lowering her hands and letting them drop to her sides. It looks a little darker than usual, but not injured. She'll be fine, but I still feel awful.

Scout looks up over my shoulder, and I follow her gaze. Leo is watching us from the doorway, hands deep in his pockets. We've barely spoken since we got back. I feel like he's always known I would go back on what I said, even if I wasn't initially as excited about leaving as he was. It's pretty cold in here, but he's only wearing a t-shirt and a pretty flimsy scarf.

"Uh…how long have you been standing there?" Scout steps back a bit, and I push my foot against the ground as hard as I can. I could get them on during our trip to Twinleaf, I guess that extra layer of socks is having a bigger effect than I anticipated.

"Long enough to know you need new shoes." He walks into the room and sits down on the bed across from me. I stop trying to force my foot to go where it doesn't want to, and look up at my old friend wearily. He reaches underneath the bed and pulls out his own walking shoes. "Here. My feet have always been bigger than yours. These should fit a little better." He holds them out to me but I don't take them.

"Uh, no. What will you wear?" He shrugs and pushes them toward me again. "No, seriously. I can't just take your shoes."

"Yeah, well, I'm giving them to you." He pushes them forward again, raising his eyebrows. "Come on." I sigh and take them, looking them over a bit before pulling them on. Lacing them quickly, I look up to face my friend's tired eyes. The dark circles still haven't faded, despite the incredible amount of sleep he's had lately. Something tells me those will stay there for a long time.

"That can't be the only thing you came in here for." I say quietly, flatly. Scout hops on to the bed next me; her warm body making me feel too hot beneath my many layers. Leo licks his lips and glances down, his rather large shoes on me contrasted against his own sock-covered feet. He takes in a short breath before looking straight into my eyes.

"I'm not going to stop you. You can do whatever you want. Just know that if Scout, or any of your other Pokémon die, you will regret it for the rest of your life." Scout shifts uncomfortably, pressing her shoulder to my arm. "You know by now that you're risking a lot. Well…now I'm telling you one more. You leave now, and you're probably never going to see me, or Dawn, or the Professor ever again." His voice drops and he leans back, hands on his thighs. "Especially the Professor."

"Right, I…I figured that." I try to sound strong, but my voice comes out weak and small. I sigh, not sure what to say. We sit in awkward silence for some time before he gets up and starts to leave. But I stand up and grab him by the shoulder before he can say goodbye. "Wait a second. Just stay right there." He looks at me skeptically, and I sling my backpack down. I pull Tinkerbell's Pokeball from the side pocket and hold it out to him. "Please. Take her. She needs the care of people who know what they're doing, and I certainly don't."

Leo shakes his head, anger and bewilderment flashing in his eyes. "I don't get you Jay. You think you can take care of Scout and yourself, but not Tink? You think you can go on some huge adventure, risking your life for what amounts to no reason at all, yet you don't think you can take care of a little Starly?"

"Please. Just take her." I don't know what else I can say to defend myself. We've both felt loss, but he's lost everything. We've chosen our paths. This is the end. I can't take Tinkerbell, not on this journey. She's much safer here with him.

He laughs mirthlessly and takes the Pokeball out of my hands. "Fine, I'll take care of her. But you're on your own from here on out." He walks out the door, never to return. He's gone, and I have to be okay with that.

Scout drops down to the floor, looking back at me. I smile at her, ready to finally get out of here.

We face Route 202 for the second time in our lives. I remember it was a winding road, going through huge fields of tall grass until giving way to the urban sprawl of Jubilife. Younger trainers used to hang out here all the time; Leo and I battled them often. But I can't hear any laughter coming from it now. The wind carries no high-pitched voices or squeals of delight, just a hollow cold and the reek of death. The grass is just as colorless here as it is on Route 201, although it's too wet to give a satisfying crunch. It rained last night, and it's clear the area hasn't gotten over it. The sky is still a pale, bright gray, clouds swimming confusedly high above us. Scout stands readily at my side, the flames of her tail crackling in the thick air.

Someone calls out to us, but I don't turn back. I breathe in; steeling myself for what awaits us down the path we've chosen. Scout pulls on my jacket, trying to get me to acknowledge whoever is trying to get our attention. I gently touch her paw and look back into Sandgem. Dawn walks toward us, carrying a small bundle in her arms. She stops just a few feet from me, her eyes wet and wide.

"Here…the Professor wanted me to give you these." She holds her bundle out to me, and I take it into my arms with caution. "Sorry, I looked. I couldn't really help it. There should be a brand-new PokeDex, and some kind of blood test thing. A new map too, one you can mark off. And these," she reaches into a side pocket of her jacket and dumps five Pokeballs into my arms. "These are mine. I never used them, and so they're pretty old, but they should work just fine." I already have five, but there's no such thing as too many. "Oh, and, uh, this too," She unwraps her scarf and holds it out to me. I stare back at her, waiting for her to realize my hands are full. "Oh, wait," she circles it around my neck, smiling as she pulls it tight. "There."

"Thank you." I look over the new items in my arms. They're wrapped in some sort of cloth, which I suddenly realize is to help me filter water. The Pokedex is surprisingly shiny for something that can't have any new plastic, and the map looks like a long, thin metal strip.

She nods swiftly, not looking at me. "Jay, I-I'm going to miss you." I have to hold myself back from asking her why she never bothered to show it. "Please…please be careful. I know I've told you that before but…I'm going to worry about you." I nod and smile at her, but she continues before I can speak. "No, really. After what happened to…to…just, what I said before, I still want you to do it. Just keep each other alive." I thought we already failed that quest, Dawn. You still think I can follow through on that? A feeling I can't identify shoots through me, and I feel a little nauseous. "This is still crazy, and you're still crazy. I just… I hope you're crazy enough to survive."

Something about the way she says that makes me genuinely happy. Maybe because she's right and that's absolutely how this is going to work. She gives me a quick hug, which I couldn't return even if I wanted to, and then hurries back to the lab.

I take Sandgem Town in for the last time, then turn back to Route 202. "This is it, Scout. This is the last chance you have to turn back." She looks up at me with a knowing look in her eyes, then turns back around to leave her home behind forever.

"Well…onward then."


	12. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN: CARRYING THE WEIGHT

"It's just for a little while, Turtwig, jeez," the grass-type refused to let go, biting down hard on my pant leg. I bent down and gently pulled him off, looking into his dark eyes. "Calm down. I'll be fine." I smiled a bit, rubbing the little leaf on his head. He took a little step back, unsatisfied. Sighing, I lifted him up and held him on my shoulder. "Fine, you can come with me. But I promise there's nothing to worry about."

My sister and my father went outside to water the garden almost two hours ago. They'd never been out longer than about thirty minutes, but I figured they were just messing around and decided to keep working on an assignment from the Professor instead of going out to check on them. After a while it became obvious that whatever they were doing was taking far too much time, and I decided to figure out exactly what it was before my mind came to all sorts of awful conclusions.

Turtwig shifted in my grasp, and I struggled to keep him in my arms. He proved too fidgety, and I was forced to put him back down. He stared up at me with his determined black eyes, and I knelt down in front of him, exasperated. "What is it, Turtwig?" He shook his head quickly and roughly, gaze still locked on mine. His feet started shuffling, stepping up and down on the freshly-vacuumed rug. I hadn't had him for very long, only a few months, but I figured by then I'd know how to read him. I could tell he didn't want me outside, but beyond that I didn't have a clue.

Completely exhausted of ideas, I stood up and walked back to the door, leaving him to his own devices. Something rammed into me from behind, throwing itself into my back, and I whipped around to see Turtwig stomping up and down on the floor. I demanded he apologize, but that just made him more agitated. Groaning, I tried to pick him up again. He seemed more cooperative, so I headed for the exit and grasped the doorknob. Then he began making very loud, obnoxious growls deep in his throat. Ignoring his ridiculous noises, I pulled open the door and stepped outside.

"See? Nothing to be afraid of." Despite it being summer, the air was still cold and the plants mostly short and fragile. Past summers had been warmer, and generally the weather in Sandgem was quite tolerable. But for some reason or another this particular year was cold and dry, leaving our garden to suffer. The light was dying, the sun slipping into its hiding spot behind the trees. A beaten path led up to our doorway, worn by years of childhood adventures and an incredibly anxious father, worried about the outlandish antics of both his daughters.

The mothers in town always talked about "that handsome young widower" who I would eventually come to realize was my father. He used to live with my mother in Hearthome before she died and he decided to relocate my sister and I to Sandgem. He would talk about her often, telling us wonderful stories about her countless adventures as a Pokémon trainer. I could only vaguely remember her, and what I did know I'd learned from him. Apparently she was the League Champion once, before choosing to step down and leave it to someone younger and, in her opinion, more capable. Not that she was old, no, of course not. She was young and beautiful, but far too modest to carry such a title. My father refused to see her as anything but perfect, and my sister and I were okay with that.

He was a very loving man, but a little on the frazzled side. He took care of us as best he could, but he was only one man and he needed to feed us too. The Professor was kind enough to give him a job and me an education, leaving my sister to be homeschooled by a kind old woman down the street. But my sister and I were crazy, always running around town and causing trouble. No matter what we did during the day, we always managed to return home incredibly dirty and covered in something sticky. We brought jars of sand home from the beach at least twice a week, and made a show out of dropping them off the roof or in the dining room. We always felt like we had the run of the place, bolting around town leaving a trail of mess behind for our poor father to clean up. He did it without question or punishment, his only tool for discipline being a kind talk and advice to try changing our ways. We had a time-out chair once, but it proved too flammable to be useful.

As he got older, I gradually learned how to control myself. My sister was still as rambunctious as ever, but after the Professor himself had to yell at me for wreaking havoc all over town I decided it was time to grow up. My father was thankful for the change, but I think a small part of him missed constantly having to pick up my messes.

It was strangely quiet, save for Turtwig's increasingly loud snarling. Starly made their home on the nearby routes, and their chirping could be heard all day long. Even more anxious than before, I began scratching Turtwig gently behind his leaf. He quieted down, but only a little. The wind carried a sudden sound, like a deep moan, to my ears. I shivered, holding my Pokémon tighter to my body. He started growling again, and this time I didn't try making him stop.

Praying the noise was just the wind, I walked a little further away from the house and took a good look around. The town seemed completely empty, devoid of any signs of life. No children playing, no old ladies standing around gossiping, no Pokémon running about in the grass.

Another moan was brought to my ears, Turtwig leaping from my hands in response. He ran toward the other side of the house, his voice rising up to a sound like barking. He stopped suddenly and bolted back into my waiting arms, feet pressed to my chest while he continued to bark at whatever it was he saw. I tried to ask him what the problem was, but my words just came out in a messy tumble. Something screeched loudly, and I responded with a scream of my own. I instinctively covered my mouth, stepping back towards the house. I heard shuffling, slow and deliberate, the sound of something struggling to move coming toward us. Turtwig and I held each other tight, my thoughts zooming in all different directions.

I wanted someone to just come out and yell "surprise!" Someone to tell me this was all just a joke and the whole town was in on it and everything was fine and I could stop freaking out. But the only sound was that of low moans, dragging themselves from around the corner and digging deep into our heads.

They came in a mob.

At first I laughed, thinking my friends had decided to screw with me as an early birthday present. After all, I could see their faces in the hideous creatures coming for me. Then I realized that such excellent makeup was far beyond the ability of my friends to conjure up. My heart pounded in my chest, and I began to hyperventilate. Turtwig fell from my arms, landing on the hard dirt path. He began snarling, determined to protect his petrified trainer.

The things steadily walking toward us were truly disgusting, their skin coming off in large patches and their organs spilling out of the stomachs. My knees gave out and I crumpled to the ground. Anything I'd recently eaten came back up through my throat, coating the ground before me in a thick, creamy stew. Turtwig cried out, the little leaf on his head beginning to fire off smaller versions of itself to hold back the monsters. One of them was sharp enough to slice the head off one, and I struggled to ignore the feeling of recognition that began to gnaw at me when I got a good look at its face.

None of the others reacted to losing one of their own, a simple act that sent me over the edge. These weren't my friends. This couldn't be some elaborate prank. Whatever these horrible things were, they wanted me and they didn't care what they lost in the process.

I wiped vomit from the side of my mouth with a sweaty, shaking hand. I had no proof that they would kill me, but I had no intention of dying here. "Who are you?" I yelled at them, my voice cracking. "What do you want?" They made no reply, just continued to shamble toward me with their arms spread wide. "Please…please, tell me!"

Their pace quickened suddenly, and I gasped. One of them lunged for Turtwig, but he leapt back just in time and sliced off its head with a thin, incredibly sharp leaf. The body kept moving, and the little grass-type froze up. Acting on pure panic, I got to my feet and raced toward my Pokémon. I plucked him up from the ground, narrowly avoiding the hungry arms of the headless beast. He shivered in my arms, and I rubbed his neck gently. "Shhh…it's gonna be okay." But I didn't know that for sure.

I kept moving away from them until I realized my back was to the door. I grasped the handle and yanked it open, slipping inside and slamming it closed behind me as fast as I could. I put my back against the wall, looking around desperately for something to help me get rid of these things. My eyes fell on my father's prized katana. It glinted in the lamplight, high above our mantelpiece.

My sister and I used to play with it all the time as kids, even though taking it off its stand was the biggest rule breaker in our house. I'd held it before, and I knew how the weight felt in my hands. But could I use it? I pulled a chair in front of the mantle and climbed on top, taking the sword down with great care. I blew the dust off, my pale face staring up at me in shock.

It didn't matter; I was going to.

Turtwig and I headed out the backdoor, incredibly careful not to make any sounds as we came around to the front. A strange part of me was excited for this, excited to feel like I had when my friends and I would play cowboys and Indians as kids. This was no game, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins sure thought it was.

The first creature we saw hadn't yet made it to the main mob. Holding my sword low, I sprang up behind it and tried to slice off its head in one swift swing. But the sword was dull, and the neck of the creature was much thicker than I'd anticipated. My weapon got stuck halfway through, and I opted to just pull it out and stab deep into the thing's eyeball. I had to kick it in the chest to retrieve my sword, and it slumped pathetically to the ground.

I figured these things worked just the same as they did in all the zombie movies I'd seen: destroy the brain and you destroy the beast. I looked down at my katana to see it covered in thick, dark blood. That didn't sound too hard, and I could do it if I just kept stabbing them through the eye. Turtwig took the next one, slicing off its head with ease. They still hadn't noticed us, so we took the initiative to continue our spree.

This was a cool dream. My dreams had always been mash-ups of strange nonsense all pulled together, but this was something new. Something to let me really get my anger out, something to let me really feel alive.

But the next creature made me stop dead in my tracks. My katana dropped to the ground, landing almost silently in the dirt. The blood was fresh, staining his newly cleaned t-shirt with deep red blotches. His head hung loosely to the side, an empty, quiet noise escaping from his rotted mouth. I asked him quietly what he was doing; my voice like it was when I was a child. I asked him just like I would ask him to tell me a story, or play a game with me.

"Daddy? Daddy? Dad, stop! Stop doing this!" I pounded my fists against his hollow chest, the other creatures crowding around me. "Don't you understand? Daddy, it's me! It's Dawn! Dad, please!" Something pulled me back, forcing me hard to the ground. I didn't care. All I wanted was for my dad to tell me everything would be alright. I kept saying his name, begging him to stop, to be my dad again.

I repeated his name long into the night, long after my beloved Turtwig scared all the creatures away. From that moment on, everything was dangerous. Everything was a struggle. Everything was a fight for my life, and eventually the Professor's. He saved me later that night, but from then on I was to save him.

My Turtwig protected me even after the day I almost lost him. The day he ran out into the hoard because he was having a nervous breakdown. I was lucky. Lucky I wasn't too fast for Leo to catch me, lucky Turtwig was immune. So incredibly, unreasonably lucky. I was lucky I survived the first day, and lucky for every day after that. Lucky to still be alive.


	13. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE: ONLY ECHOES RESPOND

A powerful shudder runs through my body. I look back every few feet; sure I'm hearing something unnatural. It's getting dark too, which means if we don't find and kill whatever's following us we'll have to sleep with the knowledge that we're being watched or not sleep at all. Our overnight guard system hasn't failed us yet, but we've only spent one night out here and these strange sounds are new.

The shuffling sound comes again, making my heart race. My palms are sweaty around my crowbar, and I pause to wipe them off on my pants. I want whatever this thing is to come out and fight us already. I wouldn't be nearly as anxious if I could determine for sure what it is, but if it's undead it isn't acting like it and if it's living I don't understand why it won't approach us. Getting attacked or even ambushed is much less concerning to me than getting stalked. At least then we know what we're up against.

We can't exactly go after it either, because it might not be alone. I refuse to go into the woods to investigate only to find myself suddenly swarmed by a ravenous hoard of Bidoof. So we're forced to just keep walking, wandering vaguely in the direction of Jubilife.

We can see the sun poking through the trees, low and dull. Whatever rain the sky had left was dumped on us last night, leaving us cold and wet for most of the day. We had a fairly thick, clear plastic sheet for a cover, but much to my dismay and Scout's horror it wasn't nearly as effective as I'd hoped. It allowed us to collect some rainwater, but made this morning an unexpected struggle. I tied a long piece of rope from one tree to another, and hung most of my clothes from it. Freezing and in only one layer of clothing, I waited anxiously for Scout to dry my things off. She was very efficient, but it still felt like forever.

I hear the noise again and stop dead in my tracks, tired of screwing around. I turn to face it, Scout immediately preparing herself for battle at my side. Holding my crowbar so that it shines in the sunlight, I make my voice as clear and steady as I can. "Who are you? Show yourself." As long as my emotions are in check, the undead shouldn't be attracted to us. They only respond to stress.

The path goes silent again, and I stare wearily into the forest. My heart pounds against my chest, my lips suddenly feeling very dry. I begin backing up, holding my weapon before me in anticipation. Scout's back is hot against my legs, standing behind me so she can watch our front. The silence is deafening, the soft sizzle of Scout's fire doing little to calm me. I crouch down slightly, preparing for an attack.

For a long while, there is only silence. We can't wait forever, so we decide to keep moving forward. I look behind us as often as I can, scanning the darkening woods for any sign of movement. A little voice in the back of my head reminds me that I could very easily turn back now, apologize for everything, and live a safe and reasonable life in Sandgem. Leo would be angry for a while, but Dawn and the Professor would surely be glad to see I'm not dead. There would be food, decent water, and a solid shelter every night. I bite my lip, tightening my hold on the crowbar. There would still be the occasional horror, but I wouldn't be alone. Leo and Dawn could help us fight, and we'd never have to worry about keeping watch or jumping at every little sound.

I shake the idea from my head. I've resigned myself to this; I have to accept the fate I've decided upon. Turning back now would be to admit defeat, and I have no intention of giving up anytime soon.

We build our camp. The trainer's mat goes down first, followed by a thick blanket and a small pillow. We push collapsible metal sticks deep into the ground in a circle with a taller one standing in the middle. Scout makes her fire outside, digging a hole through the grass before collecting some kindling. I unwrap a large sheet of clear plastic and drape it over the sticks, sliding them through small holes along its sides. The fire crackles noisily, and I crawl out to sit next to my partner.

We prepare a small dinner, just some bread, cheese, and a few weird vegetables from the lab. They taste terrible, but supposedly they give extra nutrients. The meal is gone in a matter of seconds, and I debate whether or not to make more. Scout slumps over toward the fire, looking dissatisfied. Still hungry myself, I ask her if she wants some more. I make a little less this time, and then hide it away deep in my bag so we won't be tempted again.

"First or second shift?" She shrugs, and I offer to go first. She scrambles inside quickly and is fast asleep not long afterward. I smile a bit, happy she's getting some well-earned rest. But without her the silence grows even louder.

I pull my legs up toward my chest and wrap my arms around them, crowbar in hand. For the first hour or so I try not to think about anything, meditating with the powerful little fire as my guide. The flames dance by my feet, flicking back and forth in the cold, dead air. Leo's shoes brighten in the weak orange light, casting every crevice in shadow. The dark grey laces were once strong and clean, but over the years have grown dark and tattered. The shoes themselves will do for now, but eventually I'll have to find a pair of newer ones. If every day is like today, they will be torn apart in a few short weeks.

The moon above is little more than a sliver, a thin claw mark slashed into the sky. The incredible stars glimmer, shining proudly in the night. They are free from the ever-powerful reach of human civilization, allowed to be as beautiful and plentiful as they please. I briefly wonder if my father can see them, if by some miracle he's still alive and is thinking about these majestic little lights right at this very moment. I never learned whether or not he was killed or turned, nor did I technically hear what became of my mother. I'd half-expected to see her remains in Twinleaf, but was thankful when I didn't. We didn't find any human remains in Twinleaf. However, knowing that doesn't make me feel much better. Not finding any bones means they may have simply turned.

Dawn knew for sure both of her parents were dead, while Leo learned about his father a few short months after the outbreak. Though any form of long-distance communication in Sinnoh died along with its population, the radio remained working until about three months after we returned to Sandgem. The announcement was so unnoticeable that at first Leo didn't quite catch on. The host said she was doing an interview with one of the Frontier Brains; Dahlia, I think her name was. The woman spoke in short, stammering sentences as she described the horrors that befell the Battle Zone. From what I could understand, the area was affected by the virus after the Sinnoh mainland. They had due warning, but once it became clear the disease was airborne there was no stopping it. The incredibly powerful wild Pokémon of the Battle Zone turned quickly, forcing the Frontier Brains to try and decimate every one of them.

But even some of the greatest trainers in Sinnoh were not enough. One by one they fell, until only Dahlia was left. She escaped to Lily of the Valley Island, where the interview was being held. Leo didn't do anything at first, not really paying attention to the story. But once Dawn began apologizing, he suddenly realized what must've happened. He used to tell me his father was invincible, that his father would come to save us and everything would be alright. After that, he never mentioned his father again.

A loud rustling sound breaks my train of thought, and I bolt to my feet. I stare out into the woods, struggling to see past the reach of the firelight. Something slams into my back, and I fall forward on to the tent. My face narrowly misses one of the sharp sticks pointing out of the ground.

I try rolling over to see who my assailant is. They're too heavy, and there's something incredibly sharp digging into my back. I feel a burst of heat above me, and look over to see Scout already wide awake and in a fighting stance. Scrambling to my feet, I grasp my crowbar tightly and look out into the darkness. Another Pokémon flies at me, and I hit it away just in time. It slams into the ground and makes a loud, distorted barking sound. A Bidoof, well-past the first few stages of decay. It run at me again, mouth wide open and aiming for my ankle. I slam my crowbar into it, blood and brains bursting out from its shattered skull.

Several of them come for me at once, aiming for my face this time. A blast of flame sends two of them flying away from me, while I knock a few more aside with my crowbar. They keeping coming and I stab into them as much as I can.

Unlike most undead, Bidoof are bothered by neither flame nor the reek of death. They attack as they please, often swarming areas in massive numbers and waiting in the darkness for their prey to lower its guard. I've fought them many times before, but every battle is something new.

I force the sharp end of my weapon into the head of one, kicking aside another. Sharp claws dig into my ankle, and I'm forced to push the creature off with the body of its ally. I throw both bodies back into the onslaught, their forms disappearing amongst the masses. In one swift motion, I bring my crowbar across my body and turn, narrowly dodging another leaping at my knee. I drive onward through the crowd, trying to keep them as far from me as possible.

Scout's own weaponry has added to our campfire, creating a massive blaze not unlike the one we caused on Route 201. It hasn't spread yet, but it will. I try to tell her to slow down, but the wind steals my breath and chokes me. Gasping, I jump back and continue trying to fight the horrendous beasts. They keep coming, wave after wave. Scout leaps through the air, turning into a bullet of fire and blasting through a group of them.

The image of her lying on the ground, screaming for help, flashes through my brain. I blink hard, struggling to refocus. She lands within our bonfire, immune to what she called forth from her own body. The undead continue unimpeded, countless perishing in her shield of flames. She pushes up and out, breathing heavily. The Bidoof charge toward her, and she sweeps them away with a wide arc of heat. Their screams pierce the night, calling for more and more from the surrounding woods. Scout creates another bonfire around her, setting the field ablaze.

I step carefully, breathing in the heavy smoke and trying to avoid the sparks. My eyes are filled with light, only interrupted by my enemies throwing themselves upward. I use my entire body to fight them, but they're getting too close. One grabs onto my arm hard enough to draw blood, penetrating through several layers of thick fabric. I shake it off furiously, slamming my crowbar hard into its skull when it hits the ground. Now I'm panting, desperate for the fight to end. There has been no respite, no eye in this storm. These monsters don't fight like the others; they follow their rules and do as their instincts suggest.

We're about to burn down the entire forest, and if Scout doesn't calm down soon I'll be surrounded. I look around for our camp, only to see it bathed in flames. Stunned and horrified, my heart drops and I freeze up. My backpack lies among our other supplies, about to be consumed. Concerned only for our food and water, I skirt around the fire and bolt for it. A Bidoof runs at me, but I swipe it aside with ease. I reach for the backpack, only to see the flames have already caught it. I collapse to my knees and begin trying to pat it out, my shaking hands stinging painfully in the heat.

Suddenly I feel an intense, red-hot pain in my left eye. A Bidoof clings to my face, and I pull it off using all my strength. Incredibly weak, I grab my crowbar and crush the creature's little body. I reach up to feel for what hurts, only to see an incredible amount of blood dripping from my hand. My vision fills with red, and I cry out in pain. Hands trembling furiously, I press my fingers to my eye.

There is only blood, and pain. I try to blink, but feel only a mocking, phantom burn. Out of my right eye I see Scout making massive rings of fire in the air. She starts yelling, but I hear no pain in her voice. Only pride and victory. No more undead monsters screech into the night, leaving me to sit among the brilliant flames and struggle to find what isn't there.

The adrenaline begins to wear off, pain shooting through my body as new injuries reveal themselves. My arm bleeds furiously, the pain deep and throbbing, while several acute patches on my back cry out terribly. I fall over onto my side, covering my face with my hands and letting the blood stream from where my left eye used to be.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SURRENDER

I reach into my smoldering backpack, groping around inside for the first aid kit. My hand shakes badly, and I start tossing things out desperately. I can barely see anything; blinded by blood, pain, and the brilliance of the fire. The heat makes me sweat heavily, and my wounds sting when they mingle with the salt. I sit back on my ankles, crying out as blood suddenly gushes forth from my face. The hot warmth drips down through my fingers, staining my backpack and the grass around it.

Hot hands grasp my shoulders, but I can't turn around to see who it is. Orange paws sift through my backpack, then toss it aside. Scout brings her own pack over to me, clumsily searching through it. She pulls out the first aid kit and opens it. I've never taught her anything beyond how to wrap a bandage, and she stares at me in horror and confusion.

Breathing in sharply and with one hand covering my face, I fumble around blindly for something, anything to help. I can barely think clearly, but I know I need to stop the bleeding. Scout helps guide my hand to a Ziploc full of cotton balls, and she opens the bag for me.

I move my hand from where my eye was and try not to pay attention to how pallid Scout suddenly looks. She flinches a bit, but stays by my side. The blood drips down my face, into a dark red pool in the grass. Hands shaking furiously, I press one of the cotton balls against the wound.

I drop it immediately, pain shooting through my skull. Suppressing the urge to scream, I bend over and press both hands against the wound. Scout kneels down, her gaze locked on me. The firelight illuminates her face, her wide, frightened eyes watching me anxiously. I reach for the cotton ball again, this time getting it against the wound. I grind my teeth, trying to keep my face from twisting in pain. The next few come more easily, the agony becoming more tolerable.

The blood still drips through the layers of cotton, but we're already running out so I don't try to use any more. Scout hands me one of our many rolls of gauze, and I fold a large strip of it into a triangle. Pressing it down over the bloodied cotton balls, I motion for Scout to give me the entire roll. I pull my hat off and toss it to her, bending backward to stare up at the sky. Holding the roll high above my head, I struggle to get it unwrapped. It takes several frustrated attempts, but eventually I manage to get it separated. With Scout's help, we begin to pull the bandage around my head. She walks around me, careful not to step in the pool of blood. We tie it so tight it squeezes my head, but at least it shouldn't fall off.

The effort of bandaging the wound makes me want to collapse, but I don't. I slowly take off Dawn's scarf, my thick jacket, and the sweatshirt on underneath. I'm so weak that the simple act of removing my clothes takes almost twenty minutes. Exhaustion claws at my mind, the desire to lie down and die right here incredibly powerful. I grasp another roll of bandages, this time letting Scout start unwrapping it. I point to where I'm fairly certain the wound on my back is, sitting up to give her more room. She wraps it around my torso, pressing it against old scars and jutting rib bones. She ties it tightly, then moves on to wrapping my arm. This one stings more than the one on my back, and I pray I haven't been bitten. The marks look more like claws than teeth, but I wouldn't be the first one to make such a mistake.

I order Scout to pack our things up, tell her with a terribly weak voice exactly how to strap my crowbar to the front of my bag. She's quick to follow the procedure I taught her, folding everything just the same as I would and carefully shoving it all into my backpack or hers. Before she packs the first aid kit, I tear the top off a bottle of pain killers and down more than I probably need to. She gently takes the bottle from me and places the whole kit in her bag. She helps me put my clothing back on with the same caution she used to secure my bandages.

The night crackles around us, the fire burning bright in the darkness. From where I'm sitting I can see a path through the flames, but I became so disoriented during the battle that I don't know where it leads. Smoke pours out of the forest, and I hope any and all undead hiding there are burning to death slowly and miserably. My entire body hurts, though the blood from my various wounds seems mostly contained.

I attempt to stand up, pressing one hand to my knee. I get one foot underneath me before my body refuses to do any more. I fall to the ground, hard. Scout reaches out a paw to help me, but I ignore it. If I can't get up, I might as well die. I swing my leg out, pulling it underneath me weakly. It gives painfully, and I lie on the ground in my own blood. Face covered in dark red warmth, I breathe heavily against the dead grass. I take in the pungent smells of fire, death, and burning flesh.

Once again I find myself facing the decisions that brought me here. I went against what my own conscience advised, what fate placed in front of me, and now I get to die for it. My entire body shakes, a dull ache coursing through me. This is entirely my own fault, entirely my own choice. There is no one else to blame for my current state, no one to curse or hate. I did all this accepting the possible consequences, knowing full well death was one of them.

A haze of darkness pushes through my brain, calling out to me. It's calm and comforting, but it reeks of failure. My journey ends here, before it ever truly begins. If only I hadn't been so stupid, so self-righteous. The only one to hate or blame is me.

I push my hands hard against the grass, bringing my knees up to put my weight on. Two days, that's all that I have in me? The pain killers are doing their job, but I still feel a deep sting beneath the wads of cotton. I chose to leave; now I choose to keep moving. Scout reaches out for me again, and this time I grab hard to her paw. She pulls, and I drag myself to my feet. My body sways, but I maintain balance. The consequences are my own, the faults are my own, and every pain or ache will be my own. I am invigorated by these facts, by the truth that I have no one to neither blame nor answer to but me.

Scout watches me warily, opting to carry both packs instead of hand mine to me. We stand among the flames, staring out into the pitch black of the night. With great care I begin to walk, managing little more than a pathetic shamble.

But it's enough. We cross through the only gap left in the flames, leaving the forest to burn behind us. For a while we wander aimlessly, hardly caring if we're going in the right direction or not. Smoke fills our lungs, consuming both sides of our path. I don't bother to watch for enemies, knowing that if we get attacked in this state it's all over anyway.

My body aches as the sun begins to climb over the trees. The indifferent stars go off to their heavenly resting place, the sky turning a beautiful lavender. I see less and less as the morning drags over us, my vision turning dark and blurry. Scout tries to get my attention, to point out the stream of blood we're leaving behind us, but I don't look at her. If something wants to follow us, it can. If we don't reach Jubilife soon I'll die out here anyway.

The path slowly grows cleaner, more worn in. The smell of smoke is still thick on the air, but it's distant and subtle. My legs shake furiously with every step, longing for rest. Scout stares at me, her eyes wet and full of worry. My body wants so badly to stop. I must keep walking, must keep fighting against the haze in my mind. Suddenly my foot meets something hard, and Scout rushes forward to stop me from falling. I look up into her face, wondering briefly how she managed to get so tall so fast.

I stand there for a long time, eventually realizing I'm dealing with stairs. Scout takes my hand, leading me up a concrete path. My vision is so blurred now that I can barely make out the shadows of skeletal buildings, smoke billowing into the sky. The city before me lies in ruin, what little of it that I can see crumbling to pieces. In the distance I just barely make out a tall, brown shape walking toward me.

Scout tenses at my side, and I instinctively reach back to grab my crowbar. My hand falls weakly when I remember she has my backpack, leaving me to wait for whatever this thing coming for us is without a weapon. The sunlight dyes the figure's long brown coat a deep orange color, half of his face steeped in shadow. He comes closer, speeding up a bit when he spots us. He starts waving, but neither of us responds.

Slowing down, he reaches into his coat and reveals a shining red Pokeball. A bright light bursts forth from it, and a frog-like Pokémon I barely recognize appears at his side. He approaches us now with more caution, and his face comes into focus. He's an older man, with deep lines of aging and dark grey eyes. Messy black hair juts out from his face, several pieces lying flat against his skin. He looks healthy, however, and he seems to be self-aware.

"Hello, over there!" He stops several meters away from us, waving his arm in the air. I smile darkly, thinking he must be afraid of us. "Uh, you are very hurt-looking. Have you arrived from the forest?" His voice is strange, stammering and choppy. I wonder if he's not entirely familiar with English before I realize I really don't care. "Uh…" He frowns, taking in my bloodied state and crooked smile. "Are you alright, boy?"

"Who are you?" I ask, my voice deep and hoarse. He stares back in shock, eyes widening a bit. He must not have thought me capable of speech. "Well?"

He stutters again, getting more and more on my nerves. The pain is returning to my wound, gnawing at my body. If I don't get past this idiot and find medical attention soon I'll pass out. "I am called Looker, an investigator from the international police."

He tries to continue, but I interrupt him, a sudden blaze of anger overtaking me. Rage flows through me, and I taste blood dripping down into my mouth. "What? You're from _Interpol_? Are you kidding? Are you _fucking_ kidding? It's been four years! We've been like this for four years! You idiots are only sending-" The pain becomes too much, and I bend over, panting. My legs finally give out, and I collapse on the stairs. Scout snarls at the man as he comes toward us, standing at the top so he doesn't have to be too close. My remaining eye starts to sting with tears, blood now flowing freely down my face. I try to speak, but I can barely think through the pain.

Looker speaks carefully, kneeling down so he can see straight into my eye. "It was impossible to send agents before recently. The league would not let us in. We tried to help before, but they refused to give us entrance." I stared at him in disbelief, struggling to choke out a response. "I am very sorry."

My eyesight worsens to the point that I can't see Looker in front of me. Scout wraps her arms around my shoulders suddenly, and black spots pull at the corners of my vision. Looker reaches out for me as I fall forward, finally giving in to the pain and darkness.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: NEW DAYLIGHT

"I'm going to call you Beatrice." I smile, holding the Plump Mouse Pokémon carefully in my arms. Bright sunlight shines in her dark eyes, her face full of joy. There's a small scratch on her nose where Scout got a little too into their battle, but otherwise she's in great shape. I pull her close to me, feeling her soft fur on my neck.

She's big for a Bidoof, with a wide face and stubby little arms typical of her species. Her teeth hang out of her mouth from her upper jaw, long and pale yellow in color. Scout walks up behind her and sheepishly holds out a strong orange paw. The battle between them was quick, but Scout had gone a little overboard and nearly knocked the Bidoof out. I managed to convince her to calm down by reminding her we were trying to catch Beatrice, not train against her. Beatrice grasped Scout's paw somewhat warily, smiling a bit at her new team mate.

Route 202 is filled with Bidoof, so Beatrice isn't exactly the rarest Pokémon. But I don't care, because she's my first catch. Even though it hasn't happened yet, I can remember catching Laura later on in the Route, another Bidoof. They were the best of friends, and I loved them both.

I went on to catch Arthur and Dracula, a Shinx and a Zubat. They all got along so wonderfully, always playing with each other and holding mock battles. Arthur would try to get out of them, but Dracula always pulled him back in. I think Scout liked to pretend all the other Pokémon were her children, even if I was fairly certain Laura was older than her. The little Chimchar would watch over the others carefully, giving them advice on battling or yelling at them for messing around. She loved to be bossy, but she'd always listen to her trainer.

I try to stand up while still holding Beatrice, but she's too heavy and I have to let her down on the ground. She looks up at me happily, wagging her stumpy little tail. I swing my backpack down from my shoulder and dig around inside, retrieving some snacks for her and Scout. Beatrice eats quickly, like she'd never seen food before, while Scout takes her time and carefully tastes every bite. The Bidoof finishes before Scout is even half-way done, and starts to lightly scratch my shins for more.

"Nope, that's all for now. You wouldn't want to get fat would you?" She stops playing with my legs and sits, a strange look crossing her eyes. For just a second, they flash a deep red. I kneel down ad scratch under her chin, hoping I haven't offended her. She steps back, a deep snarl coming from her throat. I ask her what's wrong and she just growls louder. Scout has vanished, and I don't think to reach for Beatrice's PokeBall. Her eyes are locked on mine, filled with hunger.

I try to pet her again, and she begins licking my hand. I pull back, not sure how to respond, as from what I've heard Bidoof don't lick their trainers when they get angry. "Beatrice? Beatrice it's just a snack…you can have some later, it's really no big deal," she lurches toward me and I jump to my feed, suddenly scared. Now I can see her eyes have turned completely red, her dull buck teeth incredibly sharp. Her fur is matted, pieces of it torn off completely. Sharp ribs poke out from her once-chubby form, her underbelly heaving. I say her name again, but she's no longer my Pokémon.

She digs her claws into my leg, and I cry out. However I feel no pain, not yet. Blood drips from her ragged claws as she crawls closer and closer toward her trainer. Even though I just stood up I'm scrambling on the ground now, my legs refusing to keep me upright. She jumps toward me and I shove her away, knocking her into the dead grass with a thud. Beatrice screeches and runs at me, face twisted in fury.

She jumps for me and I can't move. I'm held to the ground like a stone, unable to dodge her bloody claws. They sink deep into my left eye, cutting through the soft organ tissue and drawing a heavy amount of blood. Pain rips through me, an incredible sting burrowing into my skull.

Route 202 and my visions of a past life vanish completely, replaced by a small, decaying room. I reach for my face, pressing my hands into the hole where my eye was. It hurts terribly, like someone's driven a knife through my head. I sit up quickly, pressing my elbows into my knees. My breath comes short and rapid, and I bite my lip in a struggle not to cry out. There's a thick bandage covering half of my face, through my greasy black hair and over my left ear. It's much too tight for me to have done it myself, and it doesn't feel wet with blood from earlier.

I suddenly realize I have no idea where I am. I remember seeing a strange man claiming to be from Interpol, but that was it. Everything beyond that is just black. I press my hands into my wound, trying to recall what brought me here. The missing eye is from an undead Bidoof swarm on Route 202, which means either I'm extremely confused or I managed to stumble into Jubilife City. I turn my neck so I can see out a nearby window with my good eye, taking in the street beyond. This must be the second floor, because otherwise I couldn't see the street or the first couple floors of the building across from mine. The windows are all gone, probably smashed during the initial outbreak. Brave, strong vines climb up the sides of the building and slide in through holes where glass and bricks once were. A comforting silence emanates from outside, telling me this is probably a safe place.

A sudden noise makes me jump, bringing new pain to my injuries. Scout steps back a few paces, her eyes wide and apologetic. She stares at her pitiful trainer from across the room, holding a bundle of blankets in her strong arms. We stay like this for a moment, our eyes locked on one another. Sunlight pours in from outside, making her hardened eyes glitter. She lets her tail become a massive blaze, no longer attempting to control it. She cries out and races toward me, hopping onto my bed and wrapping her arms around my neck in one fluid movement. Her embrace is strong but gentle, careful not to aggravate any of my wounds. She's babbling incoherently, making more noises in a few short minutes than I've heard her make her entire life. Her tears burn on my shoulder, but I don't bring them to her attention. There's enough pain elsewhere in my body that a partially scalded shoulder feels like a needle prick.

I hold her tightly, longing to feel her soft fur on the good side of my face. Her warm body soothes some of the sting, and I squeeze her as hard as I can against my chest. She begins to quiet down, the light on her tail slowly calming. She leans away from me and wipes her eyes on her arm, trying to look tough for her trainer. But I pull her back to me and she gives up, no longer crying but still eager to be back in her trainer's arms.

I hold her there for a while, feeling her warmth against my aching body. Something moves in the corner of my eye, and I turn to see two strange men staring at us. Scout breaks our embrace and hops down from the bed, watching them carefully. I recognize one of the men as Looker, the Interpol agent who might've saved my life. He isn't wearing the long trench coat I first saw him in, having apparently traded it for a much simpler heavy jacket. A Croagunk stands by his side, gaze locked on Scout.

The other man appears to be about ten years older than I am, with a surprisingly healthy look about him. His face shows no signs of hardship, his bright blue eyes soft but serious. His thick blond hair reminds me of Leo's if Leo could bathe more often, and he's as muscular as I am without the malnutrition to screw it up. His Pokémon looks exceptionally healthy as well, though I can tell by the look in his Jolteon's eyes that things may be worse than they seem.

A tiny form jumps out from the doorway and bolts over to me in a blur, ignoring Scout completely. The little Pokémon jumps onto the bed beside me, curling up in a warm heap. Scout gawks at it, then begins to snarl. She tries to pull the Pokémon from the bed, but it starts up a terrible caterwaul that makes her cringe in disgust. I grab the newcomer as fast as I can, scratching her behind one big blue ear.

I recognize the little cat Pokémon instantly, swallowing a sudden pang of guilt. My own Shinx evolved twice before it died, struggling to protect an injured Scout and the rest of our seriously unhealthy party on Route 202 so many years ago. The Electric-Type smiles widely and nestles into my lap, rubbing her head against my stomach. Scout gives us a cross look before she remembers her old friend too. She looks away self-consciously, redirecting her attention to the stranger at the other end of the room.

The blond man comes toward me, laughing a bit. "Sorry about her. Scarlet's very…friendly." He reaches toward her and I flinch away, not about to let him put his hand anywhere near my lap. He apologizes again, this time holding his hand about level with my chest. "I'm Volkner. That's Scarlet, a new friend of mine." Scarlet opens one eye, her long black tail sweeping back and forth over the bed. She meows loudly, her little mouth stretching into a yawn. "I'm the former gym leader of Sunyshore City."

The announcement hits me like a brick. I knew I'd seen him before, but I'd heard neither heads nor tails of him for so long I'd forgotten exactly what he looked like. Looker's words rush back to me, and the same rage that knocked me out earlier burns through me again. I take my hand off of Scarlet and ignore the one Volkner holds out to me, grabbing tightly to my leg so I don't hurt her. "Of course I know who you are," I tell him with as much venom as I can muster. He raises an eyebrow, looking somewhat offended. "You…you're healthy and happy and safe in some stupid League-haven somewhere, while the rest of Sinnoh gets eaten alive. So whose idea was it? Not to let Interpol in? You're pretty high up in the Gym Leader 'hierarchy', maybe it was yours? That's disgusting. That's _pathetic_! For what reason? Pride? I can't even believe that you all would be so…so self-centered! I swear-"

"Excuse me? Where did you ever get the impression that there's some sort of sanctuary for Gym Leaders? Half of us are dead, and the other half is left wandering around for some signs of life in this Arceus-forsaken place." I stare at him in disbelief, my chest aching with dying rage. Scarlet scrambles behind me, watching her trainer wearily. Scout's tail blazes brightly, while Volkner's Jolteon teems with electricity. The two fall into fighting stances, snarling at each other and preparing for battle. "Without me you would've died. Like hell you'd find anyone else that can successfully stitch a freaking _eye wound_. Honestly, I-" He stops suddenly, taking a deep breath. He looks away from me, shaking his head slowly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that… the Elite Four screwed us all over pretty badly. I guess I just- I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

Looker walks up behind the former gym leader, patting him on the back heartily. "We are all just tired. Perhaps we should sit down and have a real conversation."

Volkner nods and smiles at me, offering his hand again. "I- yeah. You had no way of knowing, I shouldn't have lost control like that." I reach for his hand and miss terribly, unsure of where it is in relation to my face. He smiles a bit and extends his arm further, allowing me to finally accept his gesture. He was wrong, but so was I. I let my hand drop back to the bed before returning it to my eye, pressing lightly against the wound. I feel like I'm supposed to apologize, but I don't really know how. Admitting I'm wrong will only add to my pain, so instead I lean back and keep quiet.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: QUIET COMFORT

"I actually learned how to stitch a wound when a zombie Crobat took out a huge chunk of my skin," Volkner rolls up his sleeve and displays his wound to me proudly, two huge scars the only remnants of a battle long past. "There was this older man in Sunyshore who showed me how to do it. I just fixed your eye up like I did with my arm. It really wasn't that difficult, we had our own first aid kit and everything." I smile in response, not sure what to say. I think about asking him if that will cause any problems later on, but decide I don't really want to know. "But, man. You should've seen all the venom those things have. I couldn't feel my arm for a week!"

Scout looks up at me, just as confused about this strange man as I am. She sits cross-legged on the bed, her tail hanging limply off the side. I can feel her heat on my skin, a thick blanket the only thing between her and my well-bandaged torso. Volkner is close enough to her that she's visibly uncomfortable, and his Jolteon won't stop glaring at her. She stares back at him, willing the other Pokémon to look away. Volkner keeps talking, and I can't tell whether he's trying to diffuse the tension or if he's just a motor mouth.

"See, when you get bitten by a Poison-Type, even if you're immune to the virus you'll still get hurt by the Pokémon itself. You have to suck the venom out of your bloodstream immediately, or risk losing you limb. Luckily it's a pretty slow-acting poison, so I had plenty of time to get rid of it all. Though even now sometimes my arm gets really numb, right around where I was bitten, and I have to shake it around a lot to get the feeling back. The best choice would have been to get another Poison-Type to suck out the venom, as Pokémon in general can't stand the taste of human blood and obviously Poison-Types can't be poisoned. So they'd stop as soon as blood started to come out, and they'd know when all the poison was gone. Too bad you can't say the same for the undead, once that virus is in you there's no turning back. You'd have to completely amputate right when the thing bites you, and even then you can't be sure. Now with your eye, I'm fairly certain you didn't come in contact with any undead saliva, mostly because you aren't trying to eat me." I don't attempt to interrupt him because it would hardly make a difference. Anything I say calls for some ridiculous story, so I figure maybe I can just endure his rambling and he'll run out of things to say. Scout shifts uncomfortably, trying to avoid the Jolteon's line of sight. The former gym leader keeps babbling, and I refocus completely on the back of Scout's head. I don't want to listen to Volkner anymore, but I really don't want to think about anything that's happened to me lately.

So I start thinking about what it would be like to live in Scout's fur, as a little bug or something. It'd probably be extremely hot, so you'd need to have some kind of sustainable method for finding water and keeping cool. I start to wonder if Fire-Types sweat, or if they just give off heat. I don't remember ever seeing Scout sweat, but I haven't really met enough Fire-Types to be sure. Do Fighting-Types sweat? They'd have to. So if Scout is a Fire/Fighting type and Fire-Types don't sweat but Fighting-Types do, does Scout sweat or not? Well it would just evaporate, and there'd always be this really thick layer of salt on her. I've never personally licked my Pokémon, but I've kissed her forehead before and I'm fairly certain I don't remember any salt. That's the sort of thing I would definitely remember.

I must look extremely engrossed with my Pokémon's head, because Volkner stops short and looks down at me apologetically. "I'm rambling again, sorry. It's just, I don't usually have that many people to talk to and things can get really boring." Scarlet slips out from behind me and hops into her trainer's lap, watching the staring contest between Scout and Jolteon with great interest. "I think we're all excited to meet someone new." He scratches Scarlet behind her ear, and I can't help but notice how incredibly careful he is with her, as if she could snap with ease. She purrs softly, rubbing her head against his leg.

I clear my throat and ask him where he found her, trying to sit up a bit so I can see him better. "Lay down. On your side too, we're trying to stop the bleeding not make it worse," I obey him for some reason, lying back and craning my neck so I can look at him while he talks. "I found her just north of here. There was an old man there, I think he was dying. We tried to help him, but he refused. He made me take his Pokémon egg, which hatched just a couple hours later on the same route." Volkner leans down, looking Scarlet in the eyes. She stops purring and glances up her trainer, mewing loudly. He scratches behind her ear again, and she relaxes. "I named her Scarlet after my little cousin. She lives in Johto, so I can pretend she's safe from all of this."

Nodding slowly, I come to realize that I've misjudged this man. If anything he certainly cares for his Pokémon, and he seems to know a great deal more about a great many things than I first gave him credit for. He saved my life; maybe I should be a little more grateful. I start to sit up again, then stop when I remember what he told me. "Thanks," I tell him simply, turned away from him so I'm staring at the other end of the room. My coat and sweatshirt are hung up on an old nail extending out of the wall, my bag lying open and disorganized on the ground. I can see my Pokedex, a bright red square reflecting the midday light off its gleaming surface. It must have fallen out of my backpack, though I could swear I put it at the very bottom.

"No problem. I was passing through when I saw Looker trying to drag your bleeding body into an old warehouse. At first I thought he was a zombie, but as I came closer I saw he was just weird. He asked me to help him and obviously I did. So we patched you up and found a reasonable place for you to recover. I got to say though, that Monferno of yours is really crazy. She wouldn't let me get anywhere near you. My Electivire had to hold her down, and even then she fought him tooth and nail." I smile and pull Scout to my side. She yelps in surprise, calming a bit when I hold her against my chest and thank her quietly. Volkner chuckles, running his hand through Jolteon's electrified fur. He doesn't flinch at all, makes no moves to protect himself when sparks crawl up his arm. I raise my eyebrow but don't bother asking about it; he should have some electric immunity if they're the only Pokémon he raises. "I guess I shouldn't have been surprised though. She really cares about you. There was enough orange fur in your original bandages that I could tell she'd done them herself. It's not all that often you meet a Pokémon that can perform first-aid, you've trained her well."

"Uh, thanks." I say again, feeling much more awkward this time. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I feel a sudden throbbing in my face. Letting go of Scout, I put my hands to my bandages and push down, longing for the pain to leave.

"Stop doing that. You're only going to make it worse." Volkner reaches over to move my hands from my face, but Scout snarls and tries to bite him. He recoils instantly, watching Scout with a sudden flash of anger. She glares at him, her tail burning bright. He watches her carefully, eyes locked on her growling form.

The floor creaks loudly, and we all look over at Looker standing on the other end of the room. He holds a bowl of soup in each hand, while his Croagunk holds several more. "I apologize for interrupting?" He asks, looking from Volkner to Scout to me and back again. "I used several packets of instant soup and added water. There are now many bowls to go around!" Croagunk brings a bowl to me and a bowl to Scout before bolting back down the stairs to grab a few more. "Do not worry about supply, I am very well-supplied. I made enough for three humans and a full cast of Pokémon. By that I imply six."

"You're sure you don't mind sharing all that, Looker? It sounds like an awful lot of food…" Croagunk runs back into the room and hands several bowls to the former gym leader. He gasps as he tries to hold them all, spilling a bit on his hand. "Jolteon, send out the others." His Pokémon jumps off the bed and disappears out of my vision, returning with a beat-up, slate grey backpack. "Come on, they're in the side pocket. You know this." Jolteon uses its teeth to draw open the zipper, letting several Pokeballs spill out onto the floor.

"Ah, I will help you!" Looker takes two of the bowls from Volkner's hands and gives them to me. I sit up quickly, balancing the hot soup carefully on each leg. Croagunk re-emerges with three more bowls and tries to give them to Volkner. "No, Croagunk I forbid you from gathering any more soup!" The Toxic Mouth Pokémon looks down sadly, placing the bowls on the ground and slumping beside them. Looker takes Volkner's Pokeballs and tosses them into the air, careful to spread them out so they don't all appear on top of one another.

Jolteon runs to his team mates happily, greeting each of them with loud barks. Scarlet is a bit more timid, choosing instead to stay on the bed and nestle in my lap next to the soup. Volkner calls his team over, and they converge on me for food. I hand the largest bowl to a massive, frightening Electivire. He takes it gladly and sits down before us, downing most of it in one huge drink. Jolteon takes his from Volkner, and a powerful-looking Luxray takes my last extra.

Looker, Croagunk and most of Volkner's Pokémon sit on the floor while Volkner himself sits on the other end of my bed. Scout and Scarlet keep me warm on either side, taking great care not to spill one precious drop of nourishment. I bring the bowl to my lips and sip greedily, feeling a trickle of hot liquid drip onto my bare chest. My wounds hurt from sitting up, but the only other option is to lie down and be hand-fed. I like to think I'm not quite at that level of inability, so I ignore the pain and keep my body mostly upright.

Conversation comes to a complete stop while we eat. I thought Volkner looked healthy and well-fed, but he seems just as starved as the rest of us. His Pokémon eat quickly and heartily except for Scarlet, who takes great care to taste every little drop. My stomach is full before the bowl is empty, so I hand the rest off to Scout. Volkner notices this and puts his bowl down in his lap, face covered in soup. "Aren't you going to finish it?"

"Well, no. Not if I'm full…" He stares at me, looking somewhat disturbed. I try to explain, but he talks over me.

"Your ribs are literally poking out of your skin. I can see them right now, for Arceus's sake! Come on, you have to eat more. When was the last time you had a decent meal?" I sigh heavily and decide to wait until he finishes berating me. "You should really make the most out of this one, I mean, it's not like you can just make food appear out of thin air. And these packets are expensive, this sketchy guy in Veilstone tried to trade them to me for a star piece!"

"I haven't eaten anything reasonable in years, Volkner. This is the most food I've seen since I was fourteen. If I start eating now, I'll just get sick and throw it all up." I stop looking at him, instead focusing my attention on what remains of my meal. My voice becomes quiet and I push the bowl back to Scout. "Therefore…I'm done."

The room is silent for a moment, filled with the sounds of rushed, awkward eating. Volkner stares down into his bowl for a long while before apologizing quietly. I nod and tell him it's fine, he made an honest mistake. Scout and Scarlet are the last to finish, and Scout only has a little bit of mine before giving it back to Looker. He grins at all of us, him and Croagunk balancing several bowls on each hand. "I am sorry for the excess, but I wanted to for us to feel…glad. This is like a party. A party for the people in Jubilife City, we have had a citywide party right here in this very building." He's so happy about his little announcement that I don't bother mentioning how pathetic it is that a citywide party had only nine guests. Volkner nods and smiles, though I can tell he's thinking along the same lines.

Nonetheless, I'm thankful for the food and the help. Scout looks genuinely satisfied, leaning against the headboard with her arms crossed behind her. Scarlet sits beside her, rubbing her face against the Fire-Type's chest. Scout starts to shove the Flash Pokémon away before stopping and examining the little feline, carefully placing her arm around the Shinx's shoulder. Scarlet purrs, comforted by the warmth of Scout's body.

I watch the two Pokémon and smile, vaguely remembering a time when a sight like this was much more frequent.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: CRITICAL

I shudder as Volkner carefully unwinds the bandage from around my head. His face is a mask of concentration and solemnity that seems incredibly alien on him. He's extremely cautious, peeling the thick, damp bandage off with surprisingly skilled hands. His sleeves are rolled up, proudly bearing deep scars from old victories. His bright blue eyes gleam in the orange haze of dusk, focused entirely on the task at hand.

The yellowed dressing is wrapped tightly around his arm, cutting into healthy, sun-reddened flesh. I flinch when he tears it, breaking the long strip between my head and his hand. He drags his wrist against the side of his leg, letting the bandage fall to the floor with a light thump. He brings his hand around me several more times before he stops, preparing to remove the last piece of gauze and let me see my new face for the first time. He asks if I'm ready, and I tell him I might as well be.

His jaw clenches briefly, his lips tightening to his mouth in disgust. His eyes flash with pity and revulsion for just a moment before he looks me in the eye and tells me it really doesn't look so bad. I assume by that he means it appears uninfected, because I can feel pain deep in my skull, sense the loss of my eye and know, without seeing it, that the wound is rippled and terrible. Volkner tries to reassure me, gently grasping my shoulder and struggling not to fixate on the gaping hole in my face. "It won't hurt. Well, it'll sting a bit, but no more than if you were peeling off a scab." I don't bother to answer, looking away from him and into a dark corner of the room. "Jay, trust me. I've done it before, many times, it's really going to feel fine."

The pain doesn't concern me. If I could live through having my back torn into and my eye ripped from its socket I think I can survive having a few stitches removed. I'm far more worried about having to see what I look like. It shouldn't bother me, to be so scarred when I have no one to prove myself to, but it does. I bite the inside of my cheek and continue avoiding Volkner's worried gaze, ignoring anything he has to tell me. He stops trying to make me talk and releases my shoulder. Crossing the room to my bed, he locates his plethora of medical tools from beneath it and starts to examine them.

I keep looking down, eye now locked on my shoes. Scout stands beside me, her paw resting softly against my leg. She does nothing to openly encourage or dishearten me, merely giving the silent word of her support. Her tail flickers, lending some small amount of heat to this cold autumn evening. She waits for me loyally, never impatient or demanding.

Breathing in sharply, I raise my head to face the mirror. The man staring back at me has a face filled with steely determination, one iron eye watching me with caution and resolve. One half of his face is dirty, a thin mixture of blood and grime covering a young yet hardened expression, deep lines showing fear beyond his years. The other half is dominated by hard, bulbous purple scars. Three deep lines run from his hairline diagonally toward his nose, leaving mountains of red in their wake. A series of parallel stitches cross each range, perfectly threaded but blackened and weak. What a pitiful man, with only one dark grey eye and a body ravaged by injury. Yet I do not feel sorry for him; do not wish for him to have made his choices any differently. His mistakes are his own.

Scout pulls lightly on my pant leg and I tear my eyes from my own reflection. She directs my attention to Volkner, who stands beside my bed with his tweezers in hand. I manage one more glance at the tired and darkened mirror before he calls me over, asking me kindly to lie down on the bed.

The tweezers are cold against my skin, sending chills down my back. Volkner nearly straddles me, working carefully to undo his own work. I hold myself down, keep my body as controlled and contained as possible. Scarlet curls up at my feet, watching the procedure with great interest while Scout stays vigilantly by my side. I feel a mild sting as the first stitches come out, grasping the covers tightly to avoid movement of any kind. The next one is removed, and every one after that is taken from my wound with such great care that I feel little pain and find myself capable of staying calm with ease.

Volkner grasps the final stitch, unthreading it with a steady, experienced hand. He sits back on the bed, looking down at his job well done. He smiles at me and I smile back, unendingly grateful for his help. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a loud crash and a long, dark brown shape nearly falling out of the stairway. We examine Looker with wary eyes, mentally preparing ourselves for a meeting with the unintentional king of haphazardness. But the officer looks more frightened than flustered, his stupefied expression startling us as much as his entrance.

"Everything alright?" Volkner asks, sliding off the bed and approaching the older man with caution. Looker starts panting, bending over and pressing his palms hard into his knees. He tries to look up at the former gym leader, but is too worn out even for that. He sits crossed legged on the ground, right in front of the stairs. Croagunk sits by his side, looking somewhat excited but otherwise fine. Volkner stands before them, waiting irritably for Looker to get his bearings.

"Ah, yes, I…I went outside, for just one moment! I saw, some…." He waves his hands a bit, struggling to find the right word. "Monstrosities! I did not think Croagunk and I could fend them off, so we run back inside and tell you of this." He gasps for breath, breathing heavily in the dusty air.

"What sort of…monstrosities?" I sit up and angle myself so I can see them, feeling my heart beat quicken when Volkner's voice becomes cold and thick. He takes a step toward Looker, the floor creaking loudly beneath his feet. Jolteon appears like a ghost at his side, fur prickling in anticipation.

"I believe…zubats, perhaps. Birds possibly. We ran in before they could become too close to us. When they saw that we were living, they dove directly for us! We closed the door tightly just before they caught us." He sounds quite proud of himself for narrowly avoiding death, but I can tell from my bed that Volkner is furious.

The electric-type trainer starts to speak, but is cut short with a massive bang on the window. I whip around, fear and exhilaration exploding in my mind. A Zubat, bloody and confused, throws its small body violently against the dripping glass, creating a loud bang and filling the room with noise. The creature leaves markings of its face on the pane, dark, congealed blood coating the window and dripping from its head. He screams at us, voice dull but echoing in the small attic room.

I bend down and grab my trusted crowbar from underneath the bed, eager to fight again. Scout's tail blazes and she lets out a short cry of excitement, rivaled only by the meows of ignorant enthusiasm from Scarlet. The Flash Pokémon rubs against my leg, her tail twitching excitedly. I reach down and pet her gently, scratching behind her ear. "Sorry Scarlet, you're just too young. I can't risk you getting hurt, so you're going to stay in here with Looker."

"You're not leaving either," I turn to see Volkner standing over me, arms crossed. "You can't even see straight, Jay. You just had your stitches removed and if you tear open that wound again it's really going to hurt." Scout reacts instantly, bristling and glaring angrily at Jolteon. I stare at Volkner in disbelief, furious that he would even suggest I miss a fight.

"What? Volkner, I can take care of myself. I've fought plenty of these things, I think by now I know what I'm doing." Standing up slowly, I bring myself as close to his height as I can get. He's roughly six inches taller than me, so I have to look up just to make eye contact.

His blues eyes are hard and unyielding, "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jay. Come on, just stay here. Don't risk your life for something pointless. I can handle a whole swarm of these things on my own, I'll be just as safe out there as I am in here."

There's another slam, a second Zubat tossing its body repeatedly against the window. I stop arguing, jaw dropping when a mass of black dots appears on the horizon. They barrel into the walls and windows of the building, eager to finish Looker off in revenge for earlier. He yelps, but quickly regains his composure and gets to his feet. "I will watch this place! Volkner-" he looks around desperately, taking just as much time as me to realize that the former gym leader has disappeared down the stairs.

I curse loudly and bolt for the exit, tripping once on the uneven wooden panels. Looker jumps to his feet and nearly clotheslines me, flinging his arm out so fast I stop short. I glare at him in indignation, his face flashing with fear for a brief moment before he shakes his head decidedly. "No. Volkner ordered you to stay inside; you must recover before you can battle again."

The building shakes with the force of the bombardment from outside, countless beasts hurling themselves against our walls with unhampered desire. Scarlet begins a terrible sound: a trembling and terrified caterwaul that echoes off the walls and bores deep into my skull. The cries of the undead intensify, their screams filling the room with chaos.

I want to yell back at Looker, to refute his idiot argument and make him stand aside. But I can't think of anything to say, any logic that could make him release me. My thoughts are hammered into submission by the ravenous uproar, forcing me to give in. I step back, staring furiously up at Looker but not making any sound. Scout's flame relaxes beside me, but her gaze is filled with fading rage. Croagunk crosses his arms and closes his eyes, showing far too much victorious pride for my partner to handle.

She leaps for the frog-like Pokémon without a second thought, crying out in a burst of frustration. Croagunk's eyes widen momentarily in fear, and he can't dodge her fast enough. She hits him hard, sending him flying backwards into the wall with an inaudible thud. She continues for him without any hesitation, driving him up against the worn wood and pressing tightly against his chest. Croagunk's mouth hangs open, face ruled by terror.

I order Scout to back down, her tail consumed by her own flame. She falters slightly, loosening her grip on the Poison-Type. Looker starts talking to me in rushed, disjointed sentences, briefly slipping into a language I can't even begin to understand. I approach my partner carefully, letting my crowbar fall to the ground. The clamor outside overrides any hint of noise, making the clang of the smooth metal hitting the floor nearly silent.

"Scout," I raise my voice above the screams, speaking as loudly and clearly as I can. "Return," if I still had her Pokeball I'd use it, but the remains of it are lying in a pile of Bidoof bones somewhere outside of Oreburgh. She glances back at me, eyes wide and feral. I call her name again, order her to calm down. I reach out, kneeling just a few feet behind her.

An incredible noise breaks through the chaos, the screams outside ceasing with an eerie suddenness. I fall back, catching myself before I can land on Scarlet, who must have come up behind me while I was working with Scout. She leaps into my arms, whimpering softly. The sound rumbles through the building, a deep rolling thunder that silences the chaos and makes my heart skip a beat.

Brilliant light shoots forth from the ground, a tangled mess of jagged streaks reaching ambitiously for the sky. The dark forms of undead creatures drop heavily, falling like rain toward the dry, cracked concrete. I hold Scarlet tightly as I stand up, making my way for the bloodstained window. She shakes violently in my arms, her heart pounding against my chest.

We look out into the street below, now littered with the smoking carcasses of our enemies. Looker stands beside me with his hand to his mouth, completely silent. Scout and Croagunk, having apparently forgotten their differences, lean forward on their toes to examine the battlefield.

Volkner stands amidst a sea of rotting corpses. His Pokémon surround him in an impenetrable circle, each prickling with excitement. His massive Electivire breathes heavily, strong shoulders rising up and down with impressive force. A deep black mark lies smoldering on the street, a shallow wound holding tightly to the ground. The electric-type trainer turns to look at us, a wide smile spread across his face. He waves, yelling something incomprehensible. I don't respond, choosing instead to focus my attention on calming Scarlet's rapid heartbeat.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: OLYMPUS

I was the most powerful man in Sinnoh for exactly fourteen months.

I was its king, commander, and ambassador. The world's greatest army waited at my beck and call, my fingers poised to pull the trigger on any nation that offended me. I could pass or veto any bill I was handed, make any law I pleased. I decided who would rule beneath me, kept a close eye on every gym leader and appointed new ones whenever I saw fit. My power was unchecked, my will the ultimate authority. Those that challenged me were few and far between, fearful of the reputation that preceded me.

They called me the Ultimate Trainer, the greatest battler in the world and the most skilled strategist. For years my team and I fought tooth and nail for our position, spending endless days fighting and practicing in the harshest of terrains. We became hardened and tough, but our bonds grew strong and together we conquered all that lay before us. Not only trainers yielded to our abilities but gym leaders as well. We earned badge after badge and met every qualification, gradually dragging ourselves to the greatest test of a Pokémon trainer.

We rode on the back of victory to Lily of the Valley Island, where the most celebrated masters in the country waited to face us. Each battle was an official League Sanctioned Match, broadcast worldwide by a variety of international television networks. They interviewed me over and over again, asking the same questions every time: what was your first Pokémon? When did you decide you wanted to be a trainer? Why do you want to become Champion?

I never grew tired of them. Each reporter fueled my insatiable ego, bringing my self-confidence to new and terrible heights. I quickly became arrogant and cocky, showing the cameras a face of strength and enthusiasm every time so as to convince the people I was as amazing as I envisioned.

Each battle only made us more popular and more self-obsessed. We swept the first two members of the Elite with ease, and had only one knockout against the third. A fan group of mine bought my entire team and me a two-week-long stay at the Resort Area, while another gave us a "lifetime" supply of Full Restores. A group specifically made in honor of my Raichu would send us beautiful, electricity-themed pieces of artwork every month. I never asked to be associated so strongly with electric-types, but I never argued with the distinction and actually came to like it very much.

The Shining, Shocking Star. Every fan letter I received would address me the same way, with a ridiculous nickname and generally some reference to Raichu. I tried to keep them all, but quickly ran out of room and was forced to throw the majority away. More and more arrived with every battle we won, urging us to continue our well-publicized journey.

The final Elite member gave us a small amount of trouble. He easily wrecked my first strategy, but I figured his out fast enough that it didn't matter. Half of my team wound up knocked out, but we won nevertheless.

The fan mail continued to flood my home, praising me for my excellent strategy and incredible split-second decision-making skills. I took it all in happily; fully entranced into thinking my team and I were utterly unstoppable.

For the next year I had no reason to believe we weren't. The Champion battle came down to our last Pokémon, but thankfully Raichu was much faster than his Absol and we managed to pull out a win.

The former Champion sank to the ground with his face in his hands, and for an instant I almost felt sorry for him. All that power gone in just a few short months. He looked incredibly small, nothing at all like the powerful and invincible man I'd been taught to adore. The crowd around us roared in acceptance of this coup, completely dropping even the most translucent pretense of reverence for the old king. The announcer's voice boomed with pride and exhilaration in my ear.

Just like that I went from Challenger to Champion; from mere trainer to Shining, Shocking Star. My team was elevated to the highest level of idolatry, becoming Gods among foolish, savage animals. My face would be used for countless PSAs and magazine covers. The new Champion had risen; the country thrust into a new order defined, planned, and invented by me.

My throne was decorated with the symbols of my journey: lightning, storm clouds, and fire. I would sit in it and do nothing but marvel in my own glory for hours on end, shoveling coals onto the ravenous blaze of arrogance overriding my mind. I knew nothing. My hardships were true, but not like any I would find myself experiencing in later years. Blinded by my own narcissism, I stared up through the skylight of my throne room and into the deep blue beyond. At that moment in time, I felt as though I could conquer the very atmosphere.

But like all stories of pride, mine was to end in misery. I received a letter during the fifth month of my reign, addressed only to an individual named CHAMPION. No title, no salutation. Just CHAMPION, followed by a short message sent via Hearthome:

_It has come to the attention of the league that a trainer of AGATE VILLAGE, ORRE, CONFEDERATION OF UNITED STATES by the name of CYNTHIA has requested your audience. It is not necessary to accept this request. If you wish to meet with this trainer, please respond using the attached form._

_YOUR HUMBLE OFFICERS,_

_Sinnoh Regional Pokémon League_

I crumpled the letter and tossed it aside without hesitation. The people of Orre were beneath me. Whoever it was, they could surely say whatever they needed to through my army of aides and officers. Surely, a person from a place as lowly and lawless as Orre would have nothing to say to a figure as eminent and powerful as me.

Two more months of celebrity came and went in blackness. As Champion I was above the law, free to do whatever my body told me to. My regrets from those two short months are many, the images and horrible memories still flooding my mind at night and keeping me awake long into the early hours of morning. I managed to completely lose a Pokémon, as well as over two-hundred thirty million poké from the National Treasury. Another letter requesting an audience with Cynthia came during that time, but it vanished swiftly into the darkness of drunken adventures and chaotic escapades.

After the final hangover passed, I found another letter by my door. It was the same request from the same trainer, only now it was an "urgent audience". I still had no interest in her, ordering an aide to hold any and all further requests for an audience with anyone from Orre.

I lived the rest of the year in a far more civilized manner, though alcohol and sex still held tightly on to my life. I signed every bill that came to me heavily intoxicated, allowing multiple, hilariously contradictory laws to be passed. Well, hilarious for me.

The first rumors of a Challenger came to me just before my eighth month on the throne. A young trainer was progressing through the country with incredible ease, her strategy impossible to match by even the most skilled tactician. The propaganda spewed at the time painted her as a villain out to overthrow the glorious king, throwing my heroic reputation even further into the adoring hands of the public.

The updates on her progress kept coming in. She conquered the first seven gyms with unprecedented ability, and made an appointment with the Snowpoint gym leader for her first qualifying match. But she was nearly destroyed by Candice, losing five of her main Pokémon in an incredibly reckless to-death battle. A to-death challenge was only acceptable if both parties agreed to it, and even then a specialized nurse was required to make sure the Pokémon involved were willing to sacrifice their lives for glory they would never share. Trainers who engaged in to-death battles were seen as savage and cruel, though no law was ever passed outlawing the activity.

My team and I took in a collective sigh of relief, thinking any threat was passed. We returned from our very brief hiatus to our life of excitement and lunacy, quickly forgetting about the promising young trainer. We cut ourselves off from the rest of the world, ignoring any message from the outside.

We wandered out of our haze a while later to learn that Cynthia had tried to contact us nine times in the past several months. The latest one did not request an audience; it requested a battle. A challenge had to be accepted if the challenger was qualified, so the letter was really just a formality. She gave us three months' time to prepare for her, and three months for her to restart her team.

A challenge this early into a Champion's reign was incredibly rare. The League was made difficult so that only the most talented trainers could get to the Elite. That way only the best of the best could become Champion. Even the propaganda was confused -some still clinging to the idea that this trainer was a villain and some trying to paint me as corrupt and useless. At the time I couldn't believe such statements were being made about me, that anyone would try to deny what a perfect and selfless leader I was. Now I know that letting me become leader of anything was a mistake.

Three months become three hours. My team and I were prepared as well as any that spent the last year in a fog of indulgence. I knew we couldn't use our old strategies, so I'd hastily made up a new one. I remember thinking that no matter what happened we would still be together.

I hate Cynthia with every fiber of my being for what happened next. I suppose it's more my fault than hers, but it was her choice alone whether or not to subject us to the worst and most painful type of loss. I'd never in my life fought to-death before, and the very idea made me panic. The crowd screamed and cheered for the blood we spilled like this was some God-pleasing sacrifice. One by one I lost everything that mattered to me. I fell apart, struggling to grab hold of the match and instead slipping into defeat.

The last round was a desperate attempt to survive. I had already lost, but the battle had to continue on until all of my Pokémon were down. My Raichu, my oldest friend and greatest ally, stood before me with its head held high and electricity sparking up and down its body. "I'm so sorry…" I said quietly into my microphone, the one only my team mate could hear. He looked back at me with a smile on his face, and my eyes suddenly stung with tears.

We were never meant to survive that battle. The blood of my friends stained the battlefield, all six dead and gone. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands. Regret filled me, mingling with my blood and surging through my body. I thought briefly of the old Champion, the one I sent to the ground in shame. I would never, ever have forced anyone into a to-death match; never have made anyone feel the type of pain and failure I felt.

Cynthia stood victorious on the other side, her Lucario looking down at my Raichu's unmoving body. She approached me with long, deliberate strides. I could hear nothing except my own heartbeat, the chaos of the crowd millions of miles away. She reached down and grasped a tuft of my dark blond hair with surprising strength. I looked up at her in empty resolve, wondering briefly if she would kill me too.

"You fascist pig," she said quietly, her dark eyes boring deep into mine. "You did this to yourself. I never wanted to fight you; I never wanted to rule over this Arceus-forsaken place. But you've left me no choice. This is the most powerful nation on earth, the only country with soldiers waiting to strike at every corner of the globe. I asked politely for your men to leave my country. This never would have happened had you listened to me."

I had no idea what she was talking about, too filled with rage and misery to consider anything that she had to say. I blamed myself, I blamed her, I blamed the League. I would never and will never blame my Pokémon. I love them, and no matter what happens to me the hardship of losing them will never be surpassed.

Shame brought me back to Sunyshore. I returned to my home filled with regret and pain. I slept for days and hardly ate anything, only waking up to feed what remained of my friends.

At that time my team consisted of Eevee, Electivire, and Luxio. They played together while their useless trainer tried to starve himself to death; they were completely unaware of any pain or suffering in the world. They knew not to bother me, thinking instead that one day I would rise up and be with them again without the embarrassment of loss to weigh me down.

The city's old, tired Gym Leader came to visit me. He sat on the end of my bed and watched me for a short while before speaking. I wanted nothing more than for him to leave at first, then later wanted nothing more than for him to stay. "So this is what the Shining, Shocking Star has become, is it?" I flinch at his use of my old nickname. "Nothing more than a pathetic man waiting for death. I remember distinctly a battle I once had, with a trainer the world called invincible. He had never before tasted true glory, and it showed. He was grateful for everything, and fought like the greatest of Champions. And his team, oh his team…they were as incredible as him, bravely striking down any opponent that dared challenge them. And you know what? That trainer never lost. Not because he was inherently strong, but because he was filled with a love for Pokémon and a love for battling." He stopped and watched me carefully, awaiting a response. I just looked at him blankly, not sure what to say. "Volkner, you are still powerful. You have lost more than anyone I know, but you must not let that define you. You once showed me how exciting a battle could be, how amazing a fight with a true trainer is.

"I will not be able to keep up the Gym much longer. I've grown old and so has my team. It is time for a new leader to take up the Sunshore Gym." My eyes narrowed, and I sat up a bit. I started to speak, but he interrupted me. "I want that trainer to be you."

"No, I- I can't. I can't fight anyone ever again. I can't put my team through something so terrible-"

"As a to-death match? Then don't Volkner. You make the rules. Do not allow to-death battles in your city. You've screwed up before, but I still believe in you. I still believe you are the trainer you used to be." I shook my head slowly, but I didn't argue with him.

It was many more years before I finally figured out why the government allowed for such insane usurpations of power. The people of Sinnoh were born and bred to be fully in love with their country and their culture. They were told we were the greatest country on Earth, and that they were the greatest people ever to live on it for staying loyal. Each one of them was made to believe the Champion was the greatest among the greatest, that they represented the very foundation of a glorious country.

But that was not always the case. A new Champion arose roughly every ten years, pulling the nation into revolution every time. The old Champion would take on the most negative aspects of the last decade, and be made to seem responsible for every calamity the country suffered. The duty of revolution and reform fell upon the new Champion, who brought with them a team of such powerful and perfect Pokémon that they could never be defeated. They represented the glory of Sinnoh, the strength of rebirth, and the embrace of narcissism. Each one was the same. No new ideas were ever truly brought to the country, instead being recycled in a newer, shinier form.

This was how the League kept the nation in check. They produced overwhelming amounts of propaganda aiming to forge the latest Challenger into the greatest hero ever invented. Naysayers would be drowned out by the all-consuming din of the believers; dissenters would mysteriously disappear late at night. No one was allowed to deny the invincibility of the latest and greatest Champion.

At least until the next one came to power.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: NO MORE RUNNING AWAY

I shove the end of my crowbar in between the great steel doors as deep as I can, pushing until I feel it lock into place. I lean back against the wall and throw my weight into it, grunting a bit as it starts to give. The door pops open and the momentum slams me into the building, creating a dull ache where the scars in my back are. Scout and Volkner grip the door and pull it wider, a long, ear-piercing screech digging into my brain as it drags along the ground. I step back and stare into the darkness, swinging my crowbar over my shoulder. Looker stands beside me, shifting uncomfortably.

"Is it…are we allowed to do this?" He stands on his toes and squints, attempting to see further into the abyss.

I raise my eyebrow and turn so I can see him properly. "Of course. It's not like anyone lives here." Scout steps toward the door, standing right at the entrance. Her tail is a quiet, anxious blaze as she carefully leans forward, glancing inside and to the right.

He looks away, still visibly uncomfortable. "Yes, but…but this is not allowed…." His voice drifts off and he begins nervously fidgeting with his hands. Volkner smirks a bit, crossing his arms and leaning against the worn brick of the building.

"It doesn't matter," I roll my eye in exasperation and follow my partner into the building. Scarlet starts to scamper after me, but Scout flashes her tail at the electric-type in warning. She hisses but obeys, retreating behind her trainer.

Once inside I slam my weapon against the wall, the sound echoing throughout the room. The echoes are followed by a stiff, pained silence. I narrow my eye and walk further into the darkness, past the dull pool of pale morning sunlight pouring in from the doorway. By Scout's light I can see a mass of boxes scattered about, spilling packing peanuts and bubble wrap across the floor. We're mainly looking for food, but any weapons or medical supplies will do just as well.

Each of my steps sounds deafening amidst the eerie quiet. I hold my crowbar out in front of me, poised to strike. Scout breathes heavily, the ragged noise mingling with the crackling of her tail and the boom of every footstep. We leave the outside light behind us, watching the shadows carefully for any signs of movement.

My body tenses, a low moan drifting like a cold breeze from deeper into the void. I suck in a harsh breath, trying to focus on everything at once. Scout begins growling, the sound dragging forth from her throat and wafting into the blackness. I feel something shift to my left, and swing my arm out instinctively. The shining steel cuts the frozen air like a knife, soaring frictionless through shadow. I turn almost completely so I can peer out with my remaining eye.

Low shuffling breaks the silence, coming from all around us. I step back so I'm just behind Scout, readying myself for a fight. The moans drift toward us faster and louder, filled with a new desperation and hunger. We can't see them, but we don't need to. Their steps are loud and clumsy, slamming harshly against the callous concrete floor.

Something suddenly and harshly grips my arm, and I try to swing around to strike at it. For a brief moment I'm suspended in fear, struggling fruitlessly to get my weapon-wielding arm free from my attacker's grasp. The hold tightens and I blink into the darkness, the light of Scout's tail creating long, flickering shadows across pale skin and harsh eyes.

"Hey Jay," Volker grins, light bursting forth from his hand. He lets my arm go, shoving something hard and warm into my chest. "You forgot your flashlight," I hold the new tool weakly and nod, his face far too close to mine for comfort. He steps back, the black fog of shadow reappearing over his face. Something thin and straight gleams in his hand, so long it comes almost to his ankle. I can see the silhouette of Jolteon standing just behind him, body sparkling with short bursts of lightning.

"Where did you find this?" I hiss at him, keeping my voice low. I glance down at the flashlight, examining its brilliant surface carefully. The battery in it must be incredible; I haven't replaced it in years. Though to be fair, I rarely use it.

"I went through your stuff."

"You what?" But I don't get an explanation. Scout cries out and releases a massive blast of flame into the darkness. Roughly a dozen shambling, decaying bodies appear, clumsily making their way for us. I hold the flashlight up and see straight into the eyes of even more undead. I shove it into my pocket and swing my weapon in front of me.

It makes contact, hard. I feel weakened bone give way, lukewarm blood splashing onto my hands. I see fire on my right and hear thunder to my left, bodies crumpling to the ground around us. Rancid breath warms my face, and I thrust the sharp end of my weapon into the rotting maw of a zombie. It stops moving immediately, its legs failing and causing it to drop heavily to the floor. I gasp as the weight pulls my arms violently downward, the corpse holding tightly to the end. I put my foot against it and push, putrid flesh sliding easily off the crowbar. The next creature lurches for me, and I force into its stomach, impaling it cleanly through to its back. I pull the flashlight out of my back pocket and hit it hard into the skull of another undead, smiling a bit when it shatters the skull with ease. The body falls toward me and I yank my crowbar free just in time to knock the limp weight away.

I hear a clean, metallic clang, and turn almost entirely to my left. Volkner is slumped over, his weapon just barely touching the ground. In the half-light of Scout's tail I see that he's wielding a long, blood-stained machete. He's in pain and panting hard. I see something move toward him in the darkness, and yell for him to look out.

A burst of brilliant light slams into the creature, knocking it to the ground. Jolteon stands over the body and kicks swiftly into its head, thick blood staining his bright yellow fur. Volkner pulls himself back up and holds his weapon defensively, smiling at his partner. "Well done." He brings the blade up straight through the head of another assailant, spilling its brains onto the ground.

Relieved to know he's safe, I turn back to continue my own fight. I aim for the head of one, but end up driving my weapon through its neck. It keeps struggling for me, and I hastily kick it away from me. It falls backward into another, and they both end up on the ground. I press my foot down hard into the first one's face and push my crowbar into the second. Something stirs the air on my left, and I swing my arm outward in its direction. Slimy flesh skims against my sleeve and I wrench my crowbar free just in time to slam it hard into the thing's head.

Jumping back, I easily take out the last one in front of me with a swift, calculated strike. It collapses and I stand over it, breathing in deeply. Sweat drips down my upper lip, and I wipe it off with the collar of my shirt. The heat of battle still courses through me, but I'm quickly growing cold and the sweat isn't helping.

"That was fun," Volkner walks to my side, weapons hanging limply toward the ground. I nod but don't look at him, too busy taking in the incredible vision of gore in front of me. Corpses surround us in stinking piles, flickering in the light like fire. I roll my shoulder back, feeling suddenly very worn. Volkner reaches out and snaps the strap of my eye patch hard, making me flinch.

"What the hell was that for?" I readjust it, giving him the best one-eyed death glare I can. He'd produced it for me late last night, having apparently made it himself out of whatever was lying around in the building. It's simple and seems pretty poorly sewn, but I can't complain. The black fabric hides my hideous scars from whoever we meet, and actually looks a little badass.

He grins and starts to walk deeper into the building. "I swear I saw something over here," He motions for Scout to come closer, and after looking back to get my approval, she follows him into the dark. "Ah, there it is."

My face splits into a wide, toothy smile as I take in the beautiful sight before us. The wall is lined with boxes, some spilling out invaluable cans of food. I flick my flashlight on and shove my crowbar through my belt loop, running toward the food without thinking. I hold the light between my ear and shoulder; examine the cans with uncontained and uncontrolled excitement. Scout runs toward me and starts to look through them as well, showing me her favorites.

"Carrots, beans, poffins…" I look at each one closely, as if they could be taken from me at any moment. "Volkner, this is incredible!"

He holds a can of chili, his face downcast in the flickering light. He flips the can over, reading the nutritional information carefully. Taking a deep breath, he looks up at me and shakes his head slowly. "Jay, none of this will be good to eat. At- at most canned food lasts about five years. That means if we're lucky some of the unmeat is alright. But otherwise…we can't use any of this." He stands there for a few seconds before suddenly hurling the can across the room and crying out in rage.

I slump to the ground and let the cans fall from my arms and my flashlight hit the ground with a thud. Scout sits down beside me, still holding a can of poffins. Volkner drops to his knees and rubs his eyes with his palms, shaking his head quickly. The momentary high of excitement leaves, and I feel worse than I did before. My stomach betrays me, yearning for food that isn't there. Scout pushes the can toward me and I try to explain to her that isn't good to eat.

She pushes it at me again, and I take it from her. I pull the tab back and then forward, tearing the can open with a surprising amount of strength. I grope into the darkness at my right, feeling the smooth surface of the flashlight just beyond my reach. I lean uncomfortably out for it and gently push it toward me using the tips of my fingers.

I flick it on and hold it over the can. Dark greens and blues grow out of the dry food, glaring angrily at us to put it back. Great colonies of rot grip each individual piece, selfishly consuming what should be ours. I hand it back to Scout and she rolls it toward the door, her eyes filled with disappointment. "I tried to tell you," I say softly, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as she curls up beside me.

Volkner and Jolteon come over to join us, and we sit in distraught silence for a long time. Looker, Croagunk and Scarlet come in eventually, Looker asking questions rapidly and seeming quite confused. "Shut up," Volkner groans, his face twisted in pain. "It's my fault. I knew we couldn't find anything worthwhile in here, but I let us go in anyway. I-I knew…I just…I'm sorry."

Then even Looker falls to silence, sitting cross-legged from us without another word. Croagunk disappears, only to return with a can of unmeat. He hands it to his trainer, who struggles a bit before opening it. The Interpol officer looks down at it in surprise, then holds it out toward Volkner and I. "It appears to be edible," he says, urging one of us to take it.

Volkner shakes his head and turns away. "I still wouldn't put that in my body. Sometimes canned unmeat can last longer than other things, but it's no guarantee. If anything kills me out here, it won't be food poisoning." I agree with him, but keep quiet.

Looker sits back in defeat, giving the food one last look before tossing it aside. He lets out a ragged, stress-filled breath, the sound echoing in the deathly silence of the room.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN: WITHIN THESE WALLS

Volkner, Looker, and I sit cross-legged on the floor of our crumbling refuge with our spoils spread out between us. We spent all day yesterday scavenging for food among the skeletal structures of Jubilife and ended up sleeping in far later than usual this morning. Most of our "raids" ended in disappointment, but we did manage to find a few boxes of white rice, hardtack, and corn syrup. Nothing we want to eat, but plenty we'll have to. Looker doesn't know what to make of it all, his eyes scanning the pile for anything palatable. He opens his mouth and closes it quickly several times, trying to think of some way to make grammar obey him. Volkner yawns loudly and reaches for a bag of rice, reading over the nutritional information on the back.

"I mean, we can kind of survive on this. We'll get scurvy if we don't find some source of Vitamin C, but…" he lets his words fade, realizing he doesn't know how to finish his sentence. He tosses the bag into the pile and falls back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

Scarlet purrs in my lap, burrowing her little head into my thigh. I scratch behind her ear, feeling the soft, warm fuzz beneath my fingertips. Scout is never one to show this sort of affection; she's too serious to be a pet. She is warrior, a leader. Never a kitten. The Flash Pokémon rolls over, urging me to rub her stomach. I feel Volkner's eyes on me, and I glance up to see him.

He looks comfortable with his arms crossed behind his neck. His legs are bent, knees pointing toward the ceiling. "She really likes you, doesn't she?" I shrug, looking back at Scarlet. Her eyes are closed, her breathing calm and fluid. Volkner goes quiet for a few moments before speaking again, "I think maybe you should take care of her from now on."

I glare at him, eye narrowed. "What? No. That's a terrible idea," memories of Arthur's bleeding body flood my brain, the brilliant bursts of power signaling each of his evolutions playing over and over in my mind. I can't stop imagining that happening to Scarlet, her tiny body torn apart by the ravenous horde. I let go of her soft fur and rest my hands on my legs.

Volkner watches me carefully, gaze moving back and forth from me to Scarlet. "No, it's a fantastic idea. You're great with Scout, and I don't think Jolteon minds you much either," the electric-type pricks its ears up when his trainer mentions him, dark eyes turned to wary, thin slits within his bright yellow fur. The former Gym Leader pats his partner's back, briefly scratching his hide. "Pokémon are naturally drawn to you, it's no wonder Scarlet's taken such a shine."

"I must…have catnip on me or something," my cheeks flush when I realize how ridiculous that sounds, and I try to mumble a better response. Volkner raises an eyebrow at me, lips leaning into a slight smirk. I look back down at Scarlet quickly, hoping he hasn't seen my face.

"Catnip?" He laughs, and I realize there's something bitter there, beneath his mask of cheerfulness. Every joke, every chuckle has been tinged with coldness, like there's ice creeping on each of his smiles. I flick my gaze back to him, taking in his broken, tired grin. He's much older-looking than I initially thought, with pale purple bags beneath his eyes and small scars crisscrossing his face. He's still attractive, still relatively healthy-looking, but now I see that he's had just as hard a time as Scout and I. I've come to view him as a person barely older than me, younger even. But he's been through at least ten more years than I have, had far more experience with a world I barely understand.

He was a champion. I don't know why I haven't thought of it before, why I ignored such a vital part of him. I couldn't have been older than eleven back then, when I was wholly and unquestionably a kid. My memories of his reign are blurred and thin, fog drifting in the back of my mind. For a short while we were told to see him as a savior, as a revolutionary. Then suddenly he was a liar and a fake, a self-indulgent and foolish king. We hardly cared either way, as Twinleaf was a quiet and isolated town on the very edge of Sinnoh. Occasionally a league officer would come by to badger my mother about taxes (because the written threats never worked) but otherwise we were on our own. Our news came from sputtering TVs born decades before me, sometimes spitting useful information about our world and sometimes telling us about the latest "must-have product!" from Silph Co. My mother watched it all the time anyway, letting a poorly-paid cook raise her only son.

I remember the shift in attitude at school, how we were told to call some strange woman named "Cynthia" our true champion and protector when just weeks before we were swearing allegiance to the "Shining, Shocking Star". They simply told us she'd defeated him in a Pokémon battle, and to this day I don't know why that mattered so much. For whatever reason, a game of luck had chosen our leader. A leader who would abandon and ignore us when we needed her the most.

Scarlet yawns, her mouth stretching wide and baring small, pointed fangs. She blinks up at me, her eyes warm and welcoming. She's irresistible, and I'm pretty sure she knows it. I scratch beneath her chin, and she licks my wrist affectionately.

"See? What did I tell you," Volkner says flatly. He sits up and moves closer to me, watching Scarlet purr with satisfaction in my lap. His blue eyes focus on hers, and he puts his face incredibly close to her. I try to scoot away, but he grabs my knee and looks hard at the electric-type. Rolling my eye, I struggle to ignore his complete violation of my personal space and let him do whatever it is he thinks he has to. "Scarlet, what do you think?"

She stares at him blankly. "Perhaps she is not understanding you?" Looker suggests hopefully, suddenly bringing himself into the conversation. Volkner gives him a withering look and sighs deeply, shaking his head a bit.

"I hatched her myself. How could not understand me?" Looker shrugs and Volkner tries to pluck Scarlet from my lap. She makes a strange, short mewling sound and kicks in the air before letting him hold her. "That's it," he brings her close to his face, and she just looks at him in confusion. He doesn't get whatever he's expecting from her, and he hands her back to me after a couple fruitless moments. Hurt flashes in his eyes briefly, replaced almost instantaneously with a fake, mocking look. "I guess I was right. There is something…special about you," I can't tell from his tone whether he's serious or not, but either way I don't believe him.

"Yeah, right. I don't know. Maybe certain Pokémon are more drawn to certain people," she settles again, curling into a little ball of fur. I know that doesn't make any sense, that if an electric-type is drawn to anyone it will be Volkner. She peers up at me with her big blue eyes, and I smile a bit. I'm still too worried to actually take her with Scout and I, but it's nice that she likes me.

"I guess it doesn't really matter. We're all going the same way, right? Towards Sandgem?"

I sit up and turn halfway in one swift movement, staring at him in confusion. "I thought I told you I was going to Floaroma. There's nothing- I've already been to Sandgem."

He furrows his brows, pale eyes catching the bright mid-morning sunlight falling in through the window. "Yeah, but…you were serious about that? Jay," he laughs a bit, mouth splitting into a smile, "you barely made it through Route 202 intact. You really think you can survive out there? I mean, come on, you set the entire forest on fire and managed to lose an eye. You…you can't seriously keep going alone."

Heat rises to my face, and reflex gets me to my feet. Scarlet leaps nimbly to the floor, watching me in confusion. Volkner's usually a few inches taller than me, but like this I can look down on him. "I thought I made this clear. I'm going to travel Sinnoh looking for survivors. I couldn't stay in Sandgem, and you know as well as I do there's nothing here. Eventually everything south of here will be a wasteland. It's unseasonably cold, and everyone's dead so there's no one to grow anything anyway. There's just no food, Volkner. Maybe if we keep going north-"

"North? And then what? Past Mt. Coronet?" I narrow my eye at him, my face burning with anger. He's still smiling incredulously, but now his words have taken on a darker tone. There's no hint of joking in his eyes, his voice low and intimidating. Even though he's on the ground, I feel as if he's a hundred stories above me. "Trust me when I say that whatever you see here, it's so much worse over there. It's not even the same kind of danger. You think the undead are the worst thing you've ever seen?" He shakes his head, his mouth closing to a thin smile. "Oh, no. Jay, it gets so much worse." All of a sudden he's on his feet, his bright eyes searing into my grey one. "There are indeed survivors. But they won't need you to look for them. They'll find you."

I struggle to find the right words to rebut him, but only end up with a stammering string of messy syllables. "Whatever," I manage weakly, turning away from him and yanking my bag up from the floor. My things start to spill out, and I'm forced to gather them all in humiliation. Cheeks still on fire, I swing my backpack on and motion for Scout to come to me. She hurries over to my side, solemnly obeying my command.

Looker scrambles to his feet and blocks the doorway, spreading his long arms out against the frame. "No, please. You must not go out alone. It is extremely dangerous and you can get hurt! We must stay together…we have done so much!" I try to push past him, but he presses a surprisingly strong hand against my chest. "No, please," he says again, more sternly this time.

"I-I'm sorry," I start, looking into his wrinkled face. It occurs to me that I may never see him again, that as a middle-aged man he may very well be too old to survive the coming winter. My heart stings for just a second, as Looker never did anything wrong to me. He gave us food from his stores, and did his best to protect us. But I can't let anyone hold me back. Not now that I've made up my mind. "Please let me pass."

He tries to argue, but Volkner stops him. "Let him go, Looker," he turns to me, his face resolved, "I can't stop you from doing stupid things. I can try and tell you what I've learned and seen, but you won't listen anyway. You're really stubborn, and that's going to either keep you alive or get you killed." He pauses, looking down momentarily before snapping his head back up, locking his gaze on mine, and gripping my shoulder tightly, "but I like you, Jay. So…try not to die." He turns to Scarlet, who's made herself busy licking her paw and resting at my feet. "Come on then, Scarlet. He said he can't take care of you," she looks at him oddly, her eyes narrowed in confusion. He tries again with a bit more feeling, but she still doesn't respond.

"Scarlet…" he reaches down and holds his hand out to her. She looks at it for a moment before hissing, her back arching. Volkner recoils instantly, visibly stunned. "I-I don't understand. Scarlet, what's wrong with you?" she lets out a low snarl, slowly backing up towards me. I bend down and pluck her from the floor, cradling her in my arms. She relaxes immediately, rubbing her face against my chest. A spark of jealously passes over Volkner's face before he nods swiftly, eyes flicking away. "I…guess she really has taken a shine to you."

I force a smile for her sake, giving her a light squeeze. Looker stares at us for a few moments more before jumping a bit. "Ah, you can't leave without taking some of the food." He leaves his post and collects several small bags of rice and a few packages of instant-soup. He pushes them toward me, and I motion for him to hand them to Scout.

"Are you sure? There are a lot of you…don't you need it more?" I ask, watching Scout waver a bit before balancing under the weight.

"Just take it and stop asking so many questions," Volkner's familiar smirk returns to his face, and after some hesitation I drop my bag to the ground and shove the new supplies in wherever it can fit. It's easier than I thought; our tarp took up a lot of space and we left it behind on Route 202. A cursory glance seems to reveal we have all of our necessities, and I pull my crowbar from its strap just to be prepared.

I start down the stairs, but Volkner calls out for me and makes me turn around. He tosses something small yet heavy and I completely fail to catch it. Scout holds it up to me, and I look up at Volkner in confusion.

"That's Scarlet's Pokeball. Take care of her, you hear?"

SCARLET HAS JOINED THE TEAM.

Name: Scarlet

Shinx, Female

Electric

Bold and mischievous.


	21. Chapter Twenty

PART THREE: GRAVE OF FLOWERS

CHAPTER TWENTY: THIN SHARDS OF LIGHT

Scout goes on ahead, wading through the tall grass of Route 204 in search of danger. She holds her tail up high above her head so it doesn't catch on any of the dried brown plant life, her flame burning quiet and careful. The sun shines brightly overhead, lending some heat to the otherwise rather cold day. Most of the clouds have cleared, and there's a sharp, clean taste in the air. Shimmering ponds line the edges of the route, scattered about as if a giant beast had left its footprints there thousands of years ago. The trees seem somehow more alive here, more powerful and dominating in preparation for the coming winter. A comforting silence surrounds us, broken only by the occasional howl of wind or the crackle of Scout's tail. Here even our footsteps are deafening, cracking tired twigs and pressing lightly into the worn and wild ground.

Scarlet keeps close to my side, her ears pricked and hunches low. She doesn't make a sound, focusing her efforts on keeping watch where Scout and I are too tall to see. Her tiny body moves deftly through the grass, scarcely touching a single blade with her tail. She doesn't generate sparks like Jolteon, or keep a flame like Scout, so whatever power she has is well-hidden amidst layers of soft, dark fur.

Earlier I tried to hold her, but as soon as we left Jubilife she became difficult and fidgety, never wanting to stay in one place for too long. I can tell she wants to be independent, wants to prove herself to us, but I can't risk getting her killed. As long as she stays on my right I can keep watch over her, and make sure she doesn't stray from our path.

Scout slows down ahead, the grass rustling into place around her. She turns and fixes her gaze on me, sunlight catching on her dark eyes. She points forward and yells something, which I take to mean as "come look at this". I bend down and pluck Scarlet from the grass, letting her fight me for a few seconds before giving in and settling down in my arms. I struggle to look down at my feet and keep my wits about me at the same time, carefully stepping through weak stalks and cracking sticks.

I stand beside Scout and squint, my vision obscured by a bright reflection of white mid-day light. She lets her arm fall to her side, hanging limply. Before us sits a small house, a single story mass production type built of sturdy concrete and thick, dark wood. I vaguely remember an old teacher trying to explain why places richer than Twinleaf all had the same type of house, but as far I care it has something to do with "using only the best" from countries whose land we raped and pillaged.

The door hangs off its hinges, rust spreading over the knob and crawling up the storm drain. The paint, appearing as if it's been torn off by hand in wide strips is a dark blue in some spots and a calm grey in others. The windows are coated in a thick layer of dust but not boarded up, as if whoever was here left without much warning. Weeds hold tightly to the walkway, bursting through the ravaged concrete to grasp whatever precious sunlight they can.

Scarlet wriggles in my arms, kicking her legs and reaching for the ground. I struggle to keep a good hold on her, but she manages to completely turn herself over and leap onto the ground. I call her back, and she turns to look at me with a face full of grim simplicity, determined and apologetic all at once. Scout starts toward her but I hold my arm out, gently stopping the fire-type from going any further.

Volkner said he received Scarlet as an egg, so she shouldn't be able to remember this place. But her pale, wide eyes are filled with longing and familiarity, the type that someone only gets when they know they've come home. I wish I could make her understand that I went through the same thing, that there's nothing like seeing your home torn apart by forces beyond anything you can control. Maybe I could get that many words across to Scout, but would Scarlet even begin to understand me?

If anything, I want to understand her. She's stuck with us now; she chose to join me completely on her own. But for what? What could Scout and I possibly have to offer that Volkner couldn't? I can't help but wonder if she'd still come with us if she knew what had happened before, how we failed the ones closest to us so many years ago.

She bounds forward, moving swiftly for the door. Now we follow her, still aware of what could be lurking in the darkness. I grip my crowbar tightly and hold it with the curved end up, prepared for a fight. Scarlet slides through the door and I swing it open wide, letting it hit the outside wall hard. She begins to sniff the ground, head bobbing up and down to catch whatever scent she's looking for. She slips into the next room, legs bent and stomach close to the ground. The entire house seems to be decaying, with paint peeling off the walls and the hardwood floor stained with water. A leak above me drops fetid water onto my head, and I glance up to see where it's coming from. There are spots all over the ceiling, dotting the darkened paint in wide yellow stains. I hear soft dripping sounds all around me, the outside sneaking in and reclaiming what once belonged to it. Scarlet steps into the hallway and peers back at us, silently requesting we keep her company.

Scout and I follow without hesitation, keeping as close to her as we can. She leans into a room at the end of the hall, and I start to go in before her. She looks up at me and I smile, hoping she understands that I support whatever it is she's trying to do. She turns around and heads across the thin hallway into what seems to be a bedroom, pausing briefly at the entrance before stepping inside. The reek of death assaults my nostrils and I instinctively raise my hands to my face to quell the awful stench. I stop just short of entering and wonder if I should return her to her Pokeball and leave before she notices what's waiting for us. A yellowing white sheet covers something bulging and silent on the bed, the source of the horrid smell and a gathering place for all sorts of flies.

Scarlet recoils a bit, then quickly glances back at us, as if worried we would judge her for feeling disgusted. She focuses her gaze straight ahead and bounds over to the bed, leaping on top in one swift bound to sit beside the rotting form. Swallowing a hard breath of relatively clean air, I walk in after her and gently reach out to calm her down. Scout stands at the doorway, visibly sick from the putrid stink.

"You don't need to do this…" I start, my fingertips lightly brushing her soft black body. "You don't need to prove anything to us."

She shakes her head quickly and, with an obvious chill slithering down her body, grips the sheet with her teeth and pulls. I try to get her away, but she simply dodges me and brings the sheet even further off the corpse.

I want to close my eye, to look at anything else, but morbid fascination draws my gaze back to the body. The skin is completely rotted and dark, with incredibly thin green lips and large, bloodied gums. Several pieces of hair still cling to the skull, the skin pulled taut over jutting bone. I've probably seen hundreds of decaying bodies, but this is different. It's easy to pretend the undead were never alive, that they are simply accursed beings that must be eradicated from a good and normal world. But this was clearly a person. A living being that has died and is never coming back. A body ravaged by living flies and starving maggots. There is nothing evil here, nothing dark or cursed. There is only the reek of death, and the face of rot and decay.

Scarlet bolts past me, out of the room and into the hallway in seconds. Scout follows, racing after her and away from the room. Before I leave I put the sheet back over the body, careful not to touch the slimy flesh. I briefly consider saying a prayer or something, but then remember I don't believe in Gods and fairytales. So I leave the body to rot alone, comforted only by the mass of flies and the maggots crawling in and out of his skin.

There's a sudden crash from outside, and I abandon the house to its dust and water stains. Scout and Scarlet stand back to back, facing off against a somewhat small band of undead Starly. Fire flashes through the air, and Scout knocks a few of them from the sky with ease. They cry out in irrational fury, dive-bombing the two Pokémon. Scarlet dashes around, dodging each one easily. But I can tell she's getting scared, that she can't keep up her charade of courage much longer.

I join the fight with a swift slash into a cluster of them, sending a few hurtling into the pale dirt. I crush each one's skull easily, using my feet or my weapon depending on which is more readily available. We've fought enough Starly now that we know how they organize themselves, and it's easy to destroy entire hordes of them once we get focused on the battle. I grasp Scarlet's Pokeball and order her to return, but the light misses and she scampers under my feet. I try to fight with her underneath, but a Starly slams into me at just the right point to knock me off balance and send me to the ground on my behind.

Scarlet stands before the horde rushing toward us, her legs shaky but strong. My mind flashes with images of Arthur, images of his torn body and his last battle. All at once Scarlet and Arthur are one and the same; both determined to protect their trainer at any cost. The entire world moves slowly, my body pinning me hard to the ground and forcing me to wait for my friend to die. I cry out her name and try to make her return, but it doesn't work. Bright light starts to gather around her, pulling in toward her body at an alarming speed. My throat closes and we're the only things left in the universe; just me, Scarlet, and the ravenous swarm of the undead.

A massive burst of light blasts out from Scarlet's body, electricity filling the air and blinding me with brilliant whites and yellows. I feel a slight pain move through my body, but it disappears quickly. The Starly land hard on the ground around us, and Scarlet snarls in satisfaction. Each body shivers with paralysis, struggling to keep up its urge to kill.

Scarlet turns to me, face filled with pride. I pull her tightly into my arms and bury my face in her soft fur, apologizing rapidly. Scout approaches us and sits very close to me, trying to seem too hardened for this sort of thing. Scarlet puts her paws against my chest so she can look at her other partner, and lets out a very happy and welcoming sort of growl. Scout looks back in confusion before smiling and nodding, offering me a hand to help me back onto my feet.

Scarlet climbs around my body to my backpack and makes herself comfortable there while Scout pulls us up. I look back at the house quickly, trying to see if Scarlet is looking too.

But her eyes are closed in contentment and she's facing the other direction. I reach back and pat her quickly, earning myself a few quick licks from her silky tongue. Scout looks out over the bodies and we begin the odd task of finishing them off, shoving feet, weapons, hands, and even a few rocks into the skulls of our enemies.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: A FAMILIAR GHOST

"The map says this is the best way to Floaroma. If we go around the cliffs it'll take…" I bite my lip, making a rough estimate of how much time it takes us to travel a few miles, "roughly five more days. And I don't know about you two, but I can't climb that. So the only good way is through." Scarlet and Scout stand beside me, staring uneasily at the massive cliffs towering before us. They split open in the middle, a deep cave holding its great mouth open for us to enter. Inside there is only darkness, a long and wavering abyss hopefully leading to our destination. The rock face extends far to our right and left, eventually vanishing into the forest that perpetually surrounds us. Weak morning light does little to guide our way, barely reaching the cave's opening.

I lower the map and gaze into the shadows, squinting. If I had to guess, I'd say a cave would be the absolute worst place to be in our situation. They were chaos before the outbreak, so they can't be any better now that everything else is insane. But even with our improved rations from Jubilife, we don't have enough food to keep us going for five or more extra days. Scarlet doesn't eat much, but every fight burns a lot of our energy and we'll run out quickly if we don't keep a good store. As a rule we never eat everything we have because the next town could very well be a barren wasteland and we may not see any more food for a long time. Walking into an indefinite amount of danger for an indefinite amount of time will get us all killed.

If Ravaged Path isn't a complete hellhole then we shouldn't need more than two days to pass through it. Those two days should not be filled with endless fighting, but it's always a distinct possibility. If we can't use it and we end up wasting our supplies we're done for, and nothing we've managed to do will make any difference to anyone. I tell my partners all of this, and they baffle me once again by wholeheartedly accepting the possibility of death. They understand me completely, yet they do not question my often poor judgment or planning.

Scarlet takes the first few steps into Ravaged Path. Scout guards us from behind, while I watch for danger in between. Our steps echo off the walls, filling the silent cave with sound. A beam of light pools in front of us at all times, my flashlight providing ample visibility. My crowbar hangs loosely in my right hand and flickers in the light of Scout's tail. I wiped some of the blood on it off last night, but there's a permanent buildup gathering on its curved end. I don't really mind though, as I never intended my weapon to look pretty.

The cave is dead with a comforting silence, the soft drip of groundwater the only sign that time is passing at all. I might feel relaxed if caves by definition didn't make me nervous. I've never liked being very enclosed, and only knowing one way out of anywhere sends a chill down my spine. It occurs to me that we may need to come back this way, so I have Scout singe our path into the dusty ground. Each of her footfalls leaves behind a flaming imprint, quickly dying out to leave behind a scar of ash.

Scarlet keeps a meter or so ahead of me, her tail electrified in excitement. Though I know now that she can handle herself, I still refuse to let her out of my sight. Regardless of ability she's still a baby, and naturally she's more prone to making mistakes than Scout and I are. Four years ago that would be fine, but now a poorly-timed mistake could kill her. At the first sign of danger I will return her to her PokeBall.

Darkness envelopes us as we travel farther and farther into the cave. Scarlet weaves in and out of the flashlight's gleam, a bit of a bounce in her step. A spark travels over her body, her tail twitching in excitement. I glance back at Scout, trying to see her face without needing my light. Her tail keeps the front half of her body in shadow, and each of her steps illuminates her legs briefly before bathing them in blackness. She looks somewhat relaxed, with her arms crossed behind her head and her stubby fingers intertwined. They must be able to sense or smell something I can't because I feel completely on edge. I take in a deep breath, trying to catch something comforting on the air.

The reek of death haunts my nose, but I don't smell it here. There's only dust and cold clarity in the air. I suppose it's possible there aren't undead in here, but why? I figured we'd see Zubat, but so far we haven't found anything. The sound of our footsteps should have attracted them to us the second we entered.

I look carefully at the cave walls, light reflecting off long streams of water sliding down their cool surface. Nothing moves, the cave filled with silence. Scarlet pounces forward suddenly, and I turn my flashlight on her little body. She rolls over on the ground, mewing loudly. I kneel beside her and ask if there's something wrong, but she just smiles up at me and rolls around more.

She's bored. "Come on, we have to keep moving," she gives me an exasperated look and squirms in the dust a bit longer, kicking pointlessly into the air. I roll my eye and shove my crowbar back into its spot on my backpack, picking Scarlet from the ground and holding her in my arms so she doesn't have to walk any more. She tries to climb back down, but I keep a good enough grip on her that she can't. She lets out a puff of fed-up breath before settling down and getting comfortable, her heartbeat quick but gentle against my hand.

The cave begins to narrow, and it's soon too tight for me to stretch out my arms without touching the walls. I struggle not to start worrying, biting down hard on my lip and holding Scarlet close to my chest. She's fallen asleep, and part of me wishes we could change positions. Between my flashlight and Scout's tail the entire cavern is illuminated, walls awash in brightness. I start to imagine I'm heading deeper and deeper into the belly of a massive serpent, maybe a Gyarados or Rayquaza. The water is saliva, and the brown of the cave is actually a deep, fleshy red. Instead of dusty and hard, the floor is soft and slimy. I slip and catch myself on the side of the throat, my hand pressing deep into the wet tissue. Breathing hard, I right myself and keep pushing forward, the canal getting thinner faster, forcing me into the stomach.

I taste something almost metallic on the air, acid drifting to my nostrils and burning my mouth. Oxygen becomes scarce, my lungs gasping for breath. Water splashes somewhere far away, and I hear the great pounding of the beast's heart. The walls begin to move in sync, pulsing and pushing against me. I grip hard to my flashlight, the light shivering as my hand shakes uncontrollably. The ground begins to move, and I anticipate a massive surge of movement beneath me, the final toss into the sea of deadly poison permanently just beyond my range of sight.

Scarlet gasps and my stomach lurches. I drop her and collapse to the flesh, fingers soaking in saliva. My flashlight spins away from me, the entire cavern suddenly bursting into flickering shadow. The walls shake violently, shuddering and closing in for me. I grip my head hard and grind my teeth together, willing it all to stop.

I close my eye and breath hard, pushing my palms into my face. Something soft, like a piece of velvet, brushes lightly against my cheek. I lower my hands and look up at Scarlet, firelight shining in her wide, bright eyes. Scout stands a little further away, watching me warily. The cave has returned to normal, the walls brown and hard once again. The floor is soft, but no longer slimy or shaking. I lean forward and put my hands into it, inhaling slowly. Scarlet smiles at me and licks my face again, eager to comfort. I pull her into my arms and sit back on my knees, my heart slamming wildly into my ribcage.

Scout grins and hands me my flashlight as I get back to my feet, watching her trainer carefully for any further signs of crazy. I turn the light back on and hold it out in front of me, slightly relieved to see the cave widening before us. The soft drip of water grows louder, and I hear another splash. Confused, I hold the flashlight above my head and squint into the darkness. Far ahead lay a vast number of rocky lumps in the ground, stacked high on top of one another and forming huge mountains of boulders. So far the cave has been exceptionally flat, with only the occasional stalactite to break up the smooth terrain.

Scout stops moving and holds her hand out, her flame quieting to a dull ember. I put the flashlight on a lower setting, waiting for Scout to make a move. She stares into the shadows a few moments longer before relaxing, her tail bursting back to normal. She takes several steps forward, and I follow carefully. Scarlet shifts in my arms, and I scratch behind her ear absentmindedly.

The great pile of boulders shifts suddenly, and I instinctively fall into a fighting stance. Scarlet leaps out of my arms and onto the ground, hissing loudly and snapping at the air. Scout stands before a pile, completely calm. She reaches out and hits one of the boulders hard, jumping back as it falls to the ground.

The boulder rolls around to her other side as if controlled by an unseen force, stopping when it's completely behind her. She turns to face it, and holds out a paw. The boulder bounces once, and two long arms shoot out from its sides. I blink a few times and briefly wonder if I'm still hallucinating. Scarlet gasps and jumps behind me, snarling loudly.

The boulder grasps Scout's hand, and realization floods through me. "Scarlet, look," I reach into the side pocket of my backpack and show her my PokeDex, bending down so she can see it properly. The machine sputters to life, and I point it at the boulder. Geodude's entry fills the screen, and the little Flash Pokémon blinks at it in confusion. I read the entry aloud to her, and though she still seems confused I feel she has at least something of a better grasp on the situation.

I stand and put the PokeDex back into my bag. The Geodude turns to Scarlet and I, using its arms to propel it forward. Many of the other boulders in the pile begin to reveal themselves as Geodude, approaching us in one grand mass. Scout crosses her arms and stands away from us, lit by the fire of her tail. Scarlet looks around nervously, hiding between my legs. The Geodude babble randomly, looking around at each other and then back at us. They sit close, extremely friendly in their demeanor.

I saw Geodude when I traveled through Oreburgh Gate more than four years ago, and even defeated a few owned by a Gym Leader. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that they'd be immune to the virus, but it makes sense. If they're made of rocks and magic, why would they be able to turn? Steel-types must not be susceptible either, at least not the majority of them. They can't be eaten, so they may very well be able to fight off the undead should they show upon in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's why there aren't any Zubat in here – the Geodude must have scared them all off.

Smiling, I feel a sudden surge of gratitude for these strange little Pokémon. Without them we never could have made it through this cave, and while we're not out yet, had they never killed off the Zubat we'd still be at the entrance. Scarlet's body sparks anxiously, and I take her off the ground once again. "It's okay, they won't hurt us," Geodude are part Ground-type, so it's only natural for Scarlet to be afraid of them. She shudders in my arms, and I feel a sting where she touches me. "Careful, I'm not immune to that sort of thing," she glances up at me with a mixture of defiance and apology, her eyes narrowed a bit.

The Geodude start to head back to their mountain hastily, some rolling, some using their arms to "walk". Scout watches them in confusion, looking around quickly as they pass her. Her eyes meet mine in the darkness, and I turn my flashlight back up to full power so I can get a better look at her. She starts moving toward me, but a sudden burst of sound stops her dead in her tracks. Her eyes widen and she looks off to her left, her tail an incredible, frightened blaze.

Flapping fills the air, the cave overtaken by a great flurry of screeching. I turn my flashlight in the direction the sound comes from, my hands shaking in fear. Scout rushes toward us and slides my crowbar off my bag. I let Scarlet jump to the ground and take my weapon, ready for a fight. The flock descends upon us, flying clumsily through the air.

Using one arm to fight off the fastest ones, I use the other to hastily fish Scarlet's PokeBall out of my pocket. It falls to the ground, the sound drowned out by the horde. "Return!" I cry out, and though she yells back in protest Scarlet vanishes in a burst of light into her PokeBall. Fire arcs out around me, and I aim upward to take out the enemies coming down on us from above.

My flashlight illuminates several of them, their decaying forms lit up in extreme detail before my eyes. The Geodude must not have scared the Zubat off, as there are more coming for us now than I've seen in my entire life. Even when they attacked us in Jubilife they were so spread out it hardly seemed they were one flock. Here they are clearly one mass, one huge organism created for the singular purpose of finding sustenance. They fill the cave from floor to ceiling, smacking into boulders and stalactites without bothering to dodge them.

I work tirelessly to protect myself, my body moving in sync with Scout's. Her fire blazes over my head and I know instinctively to duck, my arm swings out to the side and she jumps away without needing to think about it. Sweat builds on my forehead and I start to feel exhausted much too fast. I refuse to slow down, stabbing one after another until the group immediately surrounding me starts to thin.

The cavern is filled with smoke by the time we finish off the first wave, my lungs stinging with the effort of taking it in. But I've been with Scout long enough to have developed some type of immunity to her abilities, and I can survive the pain for the time being. The next wave is upon us very quickly, barely letting us catch our breath in between.

I misstep and nearly trip, catching myself just in time to avoid another of Scout's attacks. She glances at me quickly but says nothing, assuming I can take care of myself. Amidst the flickering mass of undead is one exceptionally large enemy, its wings glowing in the light. I send a few more to the dusty ground, to the pool of blood gathering at my feet.

Something horribly tears into my ears, and I cover them instantaneously. An awful sound echoes off the walls, a terrible screech amplified by the small space. Silence follows, then a clumsy, slow flapping and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. I look up and shine my flashlight into the direction of the noise, struggling to understand what my eyes tell me.

A large Golbat with powerful wings and a healthy body hovers before me, facing the direction the swarm came from. It stays there for a few minutes before suddenly turning and barreling into me, knocking me hard to the ground. I gasp for breath and try to shove it off me, panicking under its weight. I look to Scout, willing her to help. She stares back at me, her face calm but her eyes smiling.

The Golbat gazes at me with big, tear-filled eyes. She rubs her face against my body, and my heart skips a beat. "D-Dracula?" She stops and looks at me, and at that moment she's the most incredible thing in the entire world. "You…you're alive."

Her body suddenly explodes with light, and I try to sit up under her expanding weight. Heat washes over my body but I don't care. I wrap my arms around her brilliantly light body, ignoring the burn on my skin. I taste salt and realize I'm crying, tears slipping onto her shining form. She begins to cool and the light pales, her body now much larger than before. She's easily heavier than Scout and Scarlet put together, and just holding her puts a strain on my legs.

I scramble to get a new PokeBall from my pocket, and hold it out so she can see. She wraps her bright purple wings around me and squeezes tightly, her face wet on my neck. Light shoots out from the PokeBall, bathing her in brilliance once again. The ball shakes once before making a loud click, and I smile widely, holding it to my chest.

DRACULA HAS RE-JOINED THE TEAM.

Name: Dracula

Crobat, Female

Poison/Flying

Modest nature, alert to sounds.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: SLEEP

We finished off the rest of the horde with ease, as one or two good Confuse Rays sends them all into a lumbering daze. That night we had something of a feast with instant-soup and rice for everyone. The night before that we only ate hardtack and tasteless unmeant, so we were glad to have something that at least tried to be palatable. Scout and Dracula spent a lot of time together, and I gave them overlapping watches so they could have even more. Scarlet was a bit left out, but I think she'll grow to like having more party members.

I slept fitfully that night. The cave was silent save for the random splash of faraway water or the occasional shifting of the Geodude colony, but still my brain buzzed with discomfort. I can sleep in utter chaos and terrible despair, but apparently the pressure of happiness is too much for my restless head. I awoke countless times, startled to life by an unheard force. My dreams were confusing and suffocating, each one tightening around my neck and sitting heavily on my chest. They vanished immediately into the fog of consciousness, slipping from my grasp and leaving behind only the weakest threads of memory.

It probably didn't help that we were sleeping in a completely dark cave with a very hard, wet floor. The damp ground soaked through the first layer of my clothes, covering my heavy jacket in mud that, when dried, clung to me and grew coarse. I considered taking it off, but decided it was much too cold and instead kept it on the entire night.

The sun locks its great yellow gaze on us, the sky clear and the morning unusually warm. We cover our eyes, suppressing the sharp sting that burns behind them. I pull at the blood-stained and somewhat tattered scarf around my neck, separating it from my grimy skin to cool off. I blink away the great black bruise over my vision, closing my eye tightly to quell the pain.

Scarlet yawns loudly at my side, the noise breaking through the complete silence of Route 204. She looks up at me with narrowed eyes, sunlight reflecting off her soft black pelt. She stands on her hind legs and puts her front paws on the side of my knee, mewling loudly and patting furiously at my pant leg. Scout glares at her, but the little cat doesn't let up. I sigh and relent, taking her into my arms and holding her so she looks back over my shoulder. She goes quiet and rests her head by my neck, the soft texture sending chills down my spine.

Most of the cave was at an incline, but it's somehow worse out here. There's a clear path beat down by recent pawsteps waving around sharp ledges jutting out from the hillside and strong perennial brush clinging stubbornly to the exposed gray rock. The grass is the same dark, dry gray it was near Jubilife and Sandgem, but there's an audible crunch here from browning leaves coating the ground that was absent from other places. The trees are more alive here, covered in dark oranges and reds as opposed to the usually skeletal branches we're more familiar with. Tall pines with shuddering needles reach toward the sun and the cool, calming silence of safety envelopes the route like a thick fog.

Dracula shields her face from the sun; eyes screwed up and tightened to slits. She holds one wing between her and the light and wraps the other around her body, shaking a bit. I ask her if anything is wrong and she shakes the upper half of her torso right and left. Scarlet turns around so she can see the other Pokémon, and for a second I see a flash of pleasure in her eyes before she looks away guiltily, rubbing her face on my shoulder.

I reach into my pocket and hold Dracula's PokeBall out to her. She stares at it and shakes again, taking a short step backward. I push it toward her, telling her that if she's in pain she needs to worry about protecting herself before proving herself. "We know you don't want to leave us, Dracula. We just don't want to see you hurt," she looks over me for a moment and considers this, shifting her weight in the grass. "Come on, it's really not a big deal at all."

She stares at me a moment longer before bending and bobbing up and down. I press the button on her PokeBall and point it toward her, feeling its smooth surface heat up in my hand. There's a whirring noise and the instrument cracks open, bright light shooting out and consuming her body. She vanishes into the impossibly small device, a loud click sounding when her form completely disappears. I look at it for a moment, waiting for the momentary warmth to leave before starting to shove it back into my pocket.

Scarlet looks at it in wonder and reaches her paw toward the Pokeball. I hold it close to the Flash Pokémon, and she touches the surface with a quick and careful prod. She pulls her paw back immediately, staring in wonder at the strange device. I turn it around, presenting it like a globe to her in my hand. She watches with deep interest for about three seconds before turning around swiftly and hiding her head in my neck, rubbing her soft face back and forth. I scratch her neck and she purrs, her tiny body reverberating against my skin. Scout walks a few paces ahead and watches us with clear disinterest, eyes half-closed in exhaustion.

I approach her and follow behind along the route, careful not to step in any of the random puddles or trip over a ledge. Her backpack bounces up and down, sagging a bit on the bottom and nearly reaching the base of her tail. It's probably a bit too heavy for her, and I make a mental note to give Dracula some things to carry as soon as we find another bag.

Scout comes to a rather large ledge, the undergrowth around it too thick to wade through. She stops for just a moment to readjust the weight on her back, then grips hard to the abrasive stone, climbs to the top, and swings herself over with ease. I glimpse her tail dangling over the edge for just a moment, her flame calm and quiet. Then it vanishes, hidden from my sight by the steep wall of rock.

"Sorry," I say to Scarlet, producing her PokeBall form my pocket. "It'll only be for a little bit."

She cries out in protest, and for a moment she sounds more like a lion than a kitten. I stare at her, smirking and holding her close to me as she tries to wriggle from my grasp. I press the button on her PokeBall and she disappears in a burst of light, leaving behind the echo of an indignant protest. I put the ball back into my pocket and zip my jacket up. It's getting a bit too warm, but I don't want the sides swinging around when I'm trying to climb up a cliff. I clip my backpack across my body in all the places I can and make sure my crowbar and flashlight are strapped tight to the front of it, drawing all of my things as close to me as I can.

I grip the first handhold and grope around above my head for another. I feel something hard jutting out and grasp it, pulling my body up and pressing my foot hard against the rock. It's much harder than I thought; the weight of my backpack drags me down and my thin, bony core does little to keep me stable. My hands sweat the farther up I go, and when I slip I barely catch myself.

Suddenly I hear yelling and loud, rapid-fire swishing noises. I crane my neck to look up, watching in confusion as long, thin shapes cut through the air and fly over my head with a swooshing sound. Scout's face appears over the edge and she reaches a paw to me. I grab it hard and scramble up the short remaining distance, my right foot slipping as I kick loose one of the stones that supported me.

She pants hard as I roll over the edge, grass stains streaking across my clothes. I get to my hands and knees and look out in the direction the projectiles came from, heart pounding harshly in my chest. Scout tackles me and holds me against the ground as another round of needles flies over us, slicing the air and barely missing her head.

I see them in the distance. Short figures with bright white bandanas covering their faces and ragged, dirty clothing covering their bodies. Their hands fall limply to their sides, some grasping to weapons and some grasped into fists. Steely eyes watch us coldly, calculating and empty in their anonymity. Various Pokémon of different shapes and stages of malnourishment flank them on either side, bodies rising and falling in the rhythm of attack and hold. They radiate hunger and longing, their heaving forms starving for satisfaction.

Between them and us lies a stretch of flat, dead grassland speckled with trees and bushes. Our common desperation reaches across, growing weak in the middle and losing the signal in between. They fire again, hundreds of needles sprinting toward us from the powerful and unyielding arms of emotionless neutrality. Scout and I press our bodies as close to the ground as we can, tasting dirt and decay amidst the sharp tang of grass. A sharp pain streaks across my neck, crying out from just beneath my hairline. I press my fingers to it instinctively and feel smooth warmth, blood marking my hand.

A different sound cuts through the rapid chaos, a sharp yell from across the field. I turn and glance out at the source, blinking away the dirt in my eye. One of the white-masked figures stands several feet in front of the others, hand wrapped tightly around a bloodstained machete. He orders me to sit up and I begrudgingly obey, the sting of submission biting at my chest. The distance between us vanishes and he stands over me, his eyes a harsh, vibrant green. "Who are you," it's hardly a question, more of a demand. His weapon gleams, its surface reflecting back to me my scarred face and matted hair. He pulls his bandana down and I realize he can't possibly be much older than I am, his face free of stubble and his mouth unwrinkled by time. He speaks again, this time filled with much more venom. "I asked you a question, moron. Who are you?"

For a second I think he's going to hit me, and I give him a glare that dares him to. "Red, Champion of the Indigo League," I spit back at him for no obvious reason. He slams his hand into my face hard enough to blind me momentarily, then grabs some of my hair and wrenches my face upward.

"Listen, smartass. We don't like visitors in Floaroma Town. The last visitor we had screwed up our food supply for weeks. You need food? You need shelter? You're in the wrong place. Take your mangy Monferno and get the hell out of here," he lets go of me and takes a few steps away, heading back to his party. He turns his back on me, figuring he'd made his point.

I stand up suddenly, anger coursing through me. No way did I come this far only to get turned back by a bunch of children. Going back now means I have to admit defeat, and doing that would sting more than any injury. My fists clench at my sides and I breathe deeply, heart racing. "I'm not going back. I'm not going through that freaking cave again just because some self-righteous dumbass told me to. You're going to let me pass through here or I…" I pause, not knowing how to finish my threat. "I'll burn your village to the ground." The only part of me that would honestly consider doing that is so irrational and filled with rage that at this very moment I have no hope of controlling it.

The first person that spoke to me raises his hand and lets it drop, apparently signaling for his allies to attack us again. I flinch and move my arm over my face as the needles come hurtling toward me, nearly falling down in an effort to stay protected. Fire explodes just inches from my feet, a massive blaze spiraling into a protective barrier around Scout and I. She looks back at me with a solemn expression, and for a second she looks genuinely angry with me. Then she nods swiftly and disperses the flames, letting loose a loud, fierce challenge toward our attackers. They fire another round and Scout blocks it effortlessly, her body surging with excitement.

We advance forward, ignoring the fire catching on the grass. Our enemies look at each other, eyes flicking around in confusion. The first one that spoke to me leans over and whispers something in his friend's ear, and he nods slowly in understanding. They let loose another round, this one much weaker. Scout sweeps her arm through the air and destroys their attacks in midair, her tail now a massive fire of its own. We take a few more steps forward, ready to go on the offensive.

"Who are you?" The man asks again. His voice is different this time, the expression unreadable. He squints at me, studying my steps carefully.

"Jay Mallory," I say simply, not knowing anything else to tell him that would matter. Scout keeps moving toward them, eyes beginning to glow with the anticipation of destruction.

"Wait, no- stop!" The man's hand shoots up and he takes a tentative step back. "Fine. You can pass. But that's all. No stopping, no restocking, not even any using the toilet. You have to go straight through and don't even think about talking to anyone. In and out. That's all," he stands there a moment longer before stepping aside and gesturing into the village. The people and Pokémon behind him part like a drawbridge, creating a wide path for Scout and I to pass through.

We start moving through them, ignoring the Shellos they send to put out our fire. The ground crunches beneath our feet and beckons us into the village, showing us the way to our next destination.

We're barely half way through when darkness suddenly overtakes my vision and I'm violently pulled to the ground. I hear Scout screeching and I try to get my assailant off of me. He tightens the bag around my neck, the drawstring digging into my windpipe. Scout falls silent just before my lungs begin to burn, darkness suddenly pulling me harshly into its arms. Everything falls to black and I slip into a pained sleep, Route 204 vanishing around me.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE GIRL

I blink into complete darkness, wake into immediate panic. Bolting upright, I slam my hand into the hard, dusty ground on my left side and stare desperately into the black. My right eye now seems just as blind as my left, the world completely invisible to me. I grope around for something, anything to tell me where I am or what's going on. My fingers brush against something smooth and I scramble toward it, moving clumsily. I press my palms to it and slowly stand up, my legs wobbling beneath me and threatening to send me back to the floor. The surface extends high above me and as far to either side as I can reach. Assuming it's a wall, I lean against it and follow along with my feet as close to it as I can manage. My mind comes up with all sorts of horrible situations, like massive gaps in the floor or being watched by an unseen figure. Or being trapped.

I reach out across the empty void as far as I can without having to leave the wall. My fingertips lightly touch the same surface I'm using for stabilization, and I nervously step toward the other side. I put my arms out and feel my palms pressing to the cold, dirty walls. Sweat builds on my neck, my throat closing in fear. There is something pushing back against my hands, the walls moving in to crush me.

I can't die like this. Completely alone in a dirty old room, crushed between thick concrete walls I can't even see. I tell myself I'm still alive, that losing my eyesight entirely doesn't change that. But even if this is a trick, a hallucination or momentary glitch, I know deep down that I can't survive if I can't see my hand in front of my face.

How will I fight? How will I protect my team? I can handle losing one eye; I can handle seeing through one lens instead of two. In another life I could keep on without either, could venture through the darkness so long as my destination was never more exciting or extraordinary than the local market. I could have a guide, a friend to help me get from point A to point B. But not here, where there's a threat lurking around every corner and one misstep can kill you. Here I need to be on guard at all times, be aware of everything at once. I'm going to die because I'm an idiot. I'm going to die because I can't see anything. I'm going to die because I was too _fucking_ stupid to keep my mouth shut.

The walls push harder and harder on my hands, forcing me to let go and collapse to the ground. I breathe hard, each inhale shuddering and struggling to rake in the stale, dry air. The walls are lightly pushing against my shoulders, and my arms are too heavy now to lift. I wonder where my backpack is; where Scout, Scarlet, and Dracula are. Their PokeBalls are gone, and the lack of heat in this tiny room announces Scout's absence. The pressure of not knowing where they are, not knowing what's happened to them or who they're with, adds to the strength of the walls closing in around me.

My heart races, my chest tight and my lungs begging for clean air. I try to stand up, try to find a door or some other means of escape. My body becomes weak and my legs give out; I drop back to the ground and will the walls to stop, please, please just _stop_.

Light explodes in the room, my eye burning as the world erupts into pain and color. Bright whiteness spills in, covering the small room in a thick layer of blinding brilliance. A figure stands between the exit and the impenetrable source of light, a thin body covered in dirt and tattered clothing. A long, thick braid flows down from behind her shoulder, coming to rest heavily at her hip. Frizzy strands escape from their bindings, forming a halo of deep brown fuzz on her head. Her arms hang limply in front of her, hands loosely grasping a long silver baseball bat.

She takes a step toward me, and though I want nothing more than to run past her I scramble backward, automatically fearful. She looks me over, one thin eyebrow rising in interest. "Not so big and threatening now, huh?" I don't try to respond, too focused on catching my breath to worry about empty insults. She smirks a bit, shifts her weight so one hip juts out. "I guess I would do the same thing, though. Maybe less crazy, but Brandon can be a real asshole," I keep looking up at her, not answering. I want her to leave me alone, but if she leaves I'm afraid I'll be locked in that room again. She watches me awkwardly now, confidence starting to deflate. "Um, so how'd you…what happened to your face?"

I press my hand to my eye patch and lightly run my fingertips over the grimy fabric, feeling each stain and crease. The scars extend beyond where the black cloth reaches, ending roughly a centimeter above my lip. I shrug at her and look down, unsure of how to explain. She tightens her grip on the bat suddenly and takes another step forward. I keep still this time, resting my gaze back on her as my heart rate slows.

"It looks sort of cool, honestly. Well, yeah, it looks like it hurts too, but it's also just kind of cool," she bites her lip, eyes quickly flicking away before turning them back on me. "I just came to check on you. Brandon said that-" she stops and turns around, body visibly tensing. She holds her bat in one hand and walks away from the room, into the empty hallway beyond. A scream bursts through the stillness, following by a horrified pleading and cries of pain. The girl runs back into the room and stops, hesitating and looking down at me with wide, suddenly crazed green eyes. She puts her hand out toward me, and I grab it, letting her pull me to my feet. She doesn't give me time to thank her, instead dragging me violently away from the room and into the hall with a hard yank. "Your things are in another room, including your Pokémon. Come on, I'll take you there."

She starts to run away, and I wrench my hand from hers, stopping just outside the door and locking my gaze on hers. "Wait, why? I mean, I'm pretty sure I know what's going on but why are you helping me? Shouldn't you go and help whoever else is supposed to defend this place?"

She glances away quickly, obviously nervous about the situation. She stumbles over her words at first, then manages to get control. "Because it's all hands on deck, and I- really don't think you're going to fight against us."

"Why? I haven't done anything to make you trust me. At all."

"I just know, alright? Now shut up and be grateful!" She bolts away and I follow her, my lungs questioning my ability to run as soon as I force my legs to move. She leads me down several dark blue hallways, each stained with time and scarred by vandals. We hear more screaming and she bolts up a staircase, vanishing around the corner and into a simple beige room. I walk in cautiously after her, longing for my weapon.

She steps over piles of random debris and grabs a selection of keys from a decaying wooden desk. The wall furthest from me is dominated by a massive window, a fantastic view of a stunning and uncannily clear night sky. Millions of stars shine, gathered around a single stream of thick lights streaking through the darkness, a porthole to the farthest reaches of our galaxy.

The keys jingle loudly as the girl unlocks a door hidden away in the back of the room. Scout bursts out, tackling the girl to the ground with her tail a massive blaze. She screeches and sets her hands on fire, anger surging through her every movement. I call out her name and she stops, turning quickly to look at me. She leaps away from the girl and runs to me, jumping easily into my arms. The girl slowly gets up from the floor, shaking a bit. "Yes, well, um…okay," she enters the side room and returns with my backpack and Pokeballs. "Is this all?" I nod and take my things, letting Scarlet and Dracula out immediately. Scarlet hisses at me, still angry that I put her away earlier. She looks around and calms, realizing she has no idea where she is. Dracula takes the room in quickly and accepts it, hovering over to me and rubbing her face against mine. I let Scout down and pull my crowbar from my bag, glad to have my team back.

The girl walks over to me, playing with the end of her bat. "We'd better get out there then. This building really shouldn't be so empty…I'm honestly not sure what's happening right now."

I raise my eyebrow and clear my throat to speak. "Uh, isn't it obvious? You're under attack," Dracula suddenly grasps my backpack, pulling her wings in and hanging off it. I fall back awkwardly but maintain my balance, using the worn desk for support. I'll have to explain to her later that she weighs much more now than when I first caught her, and that randomly attaching herself to my things is no longer okay.

The girl shakes her head, braid shaking back and forth. "We…don't have undead problems around here. Until recently, the Driftloon and Driftblim at the Windworks have kept us safe, 'cause Ghost-types are immune, you know? And in return we'd just keep them company. They gave us fuel and protection then suddenly, just a week or two ago, they all vanished. We sent a team out to find them but they, uh, didn't come back," she lets out a shuddering breath and begins to look very tired. "I guess we should've figured this might happen, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe," I have no idea how to respond to that, so I choose to stay neutral. Scarlet paces at my feet, anxious to find out what's going on. She looks up at me with questioning eyes, wide and innocent. Scout puts her paw on the younger Pokémon's back and shakes her head, a kind way of telling her to wait until later. Dracula shudders on my back and I reach behind me to scratch her head, my back aching from the weight. "Let's just get moving."

The girl nods and we leave, making our way for what she says is the back entrance. Scarlet struggles to keep up, while Dracula easily flies around us. We come to the door breathing heavily, and the girl backs into it hard. She produces two PokeBalls from her dark green pants, light bursting out of them and forming into an Espeon and a Chansey. The door swings open and her Espeon leads us out, followed by Scout and the girl herself.

Though the night is relatively quiet, the chaos is evident in the sporadic bouts of shuffling sounds and the occasional cry. Scarlet sniffs the air and hisses, back arching. I hold my crowbar out before me and scan the immediate area, looking carefully into the darkness for any signs of movement. The girl walks out into the grass, a light breeze picking up her unfastened jacket and drawing her loose-fitting pants out with it. I can see torches in the distance, raised high just over houses and bouncing up and down in furious hands.

Something moves in the corner of my vision, a small shape bolting through the shadows. The girl sees it too late, the little form leaping for her and grabbing hard to her chest. Her Pokémon try to help, but before they can move the full swarm comes streaming out of the darkness.

I run to the girl, my team just behind me. Her Espeon takes out a mass of enemies separating him from his trainer, while her Chansey begins making a protective barrier around them. Scout rushes past them and knocks the creature off the girl. I fall to my knees beside her, using the lights of battle to check her wounds. There's blood everywhere, but she's still breathing and she looks more scared than anything. I ask if she's okay and she just stares at me for a second, sitting up slightly and getting way too close to me than I'd like. She nods briskly and looks away, exposing the right side of her face to me. She has a massive gash, a deep cut spreading from just before her ear to just above her lip. "Wait, don't move." I swing my backpack off and get my first aid kit out as fast as I can, clumsily readying some bandages. Static flows through the air and I look up to see Dracula and Scarlet fighting side-by-side, covering each other's weaknesses. Chansey's barrier seems to be helping as well, though it won't last forever. I wrap the bandages around the girl's wound as best I can, trying to tie them so she can still see.

"It-it's not that bad, is it?" She looks at me desperately, her bandaged face full of vain fear. I start to shake my head, then decide it's better not to lie.

"No, it's pretty bad actually. But, uh, nothing you won't live through," her beautiful eyes, reflecting the brilliance of battle in their dark surface, fill with horror for just a second before hardening. She nods and starts getting to her feet, pausing briefly when her face is level with mine.

"I- thank you," I nod and stand, eager to fight alongside my partners. She brandishes her bat and falls into a fighting position, her back to mine. I hear thunder again and see a flash of flame, feel a gust of wind and the chill of the night. The girl jumps forward toward the horde, beginning our slaughter of the undead.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: HALF-LIGHT

Scarlet purrs softly, her tiny body reverberating against my leg. Her tail weaves around her, lying on the dusty basement floor and crossing over her big blue paws. Her ears are pricked, her back arched slightly. Scout stands stock still beside her, studying our surroundings with careful, thoughtful eyes.

One paw lightly grips the strap of her backpack; the other hangs loosely at her side. The muscles in her back are tense, her head tilted down.

"We're fairly certain this morning's attacks are directly related to the recent disappearance of the Balloon Pokémon at the Valley Windworks. They protected us by defending our fuel supply from the undead. Now that they're gone, the zombies are back," the boy I now recognize as Brandon turns to a decent-sized chalkboard behind him, pointing to a strange collection of circles, crosses, and triangles scattered all over it in faded blues. "That's why I propose sending a group of the most well-trained fighters we have to check the building out and bring the Driftloon back," he gestures to a group of triangles clustered around a long, thick line. "We'll have a few people hang back to make sure everyone stays safe at home. The undead aren't very smart, but sometimes they strike at just the right time to screw everything up. I especially believe we should send over any trainer with rock, ground, grass, or electric-types. The Pokémon at the Windworks were, I think, like, Buizels and Shellos and Shinx and shit. So if we use types strong to those Pokémon we should have an easier time clearing our way through. " He hesitates, putting his hand to his mouth and looking over the confusing mess of symbols on the board. He reaches toward them and then pulls back, quickly turning to look over the small crowd before him with harsh eyes daring them to question his authority.

A tired-looking Roselia sits at his feet, absentmindedly playing with her flowers. She glances up at her trainer while he speaks, watching him explain his simple battle plan. Her body tenses suddenly and she snaps to attention. The loud sound of a door slamming echoes throughout the room, and I swing around to see the girl I met earlier walking in with her Pokémon by her side. Her Espeon seems very comfortable in this dirty room, but the Wynaut in her arms shakes and looks around nervously. Scarlet notices them and springs to life, breaking the awkward, heavy silence of the room to greet Espeon cheerfully. The Psychic-type tries to look mature as Scarlet rubs her face against him, purring loudly. He totters a bit, bracing himself on his right legs.

The girl tries to separate them, casting me a desperate, nervous glance. Ignoring the stares from the rest of the room, I slowly get out of my chair and walk toward her. She smiles at me and I kneel down, taking Scarlet carefully into my hands. The girl and I straighten to our feet, the room watching us in painful quiet. I look at her as we rise, taking note of the yellowed mess of clumsily applied bandages covering her pretty face. Now I see her scars: small cuts in her eyebrows and a long slice along her neck. The lighting here shines in her harsh eyes, perpetually wide and clear.

"Nice of you to join us, Cheryl," Brandon's eyes narrow and he glares hard at us, body tensing slightly. "Why don't you take a seat so we can talk about what we're going to do with…our problem."

I want to hit him for addressing the issue like that. Calling a massive horde of the undead a "problem" is the understatement of the century. Scarlet yelps in my arms and I realize I'm squeezing her. I let her back down to the ground and lead the girl to a new seat. The atmosphere in the room doesn't relax; I can feel eyes bore into my back, sending chills down my spine.

"Actually, why doesn't someone else share an idea? Zack? Karina? Cheryl?" The girl looks away at the sound of her name, focusing on the trembling Wynaut in her arms. "Aw, come on. I mean, it's cool if we just go with my idea, but it's better if we hear a few others." There's a note of malice in his voice, an undercurrent of anger.

"I've got an idea," someone pipes up from the back. I turn to see a short girl with thin, greasy blond hair smirking at us. "Let's send the prisoner in first. Take care of two problems at once." I stare at her blankly for a moment before realizing she's talking about me. I start to speak up, but decide that perhaps its better this way. I don't actually care about this place; my team and I can just fight our way to the other side of the building and run away through another exit. My entire experience with this town has pretty much been a waste of time anyway, so I figure I might as well cut my losses and get out before things become any worse.

Cheryl's face suddenly looks very strange, as if she's been personally attacked. "No! He'll get killed, how could you even suggest that?" Her voice shakes, her eyes wide. "Who knows how bad things could be over there? What if- what if it's…really bad?" She starts to wither beneath the pressure of the room, her tone weakening and her point fading away. The blonde girl's eyes are like daggers, penetrating through Cheryl's quiet resolve.

Brandon clears his throat and I turn back to him, catching a look of bizarre satisfaction on his face. His gaze flicks over me, his lips breaking into a smirk. "Actually, I think that's a great idea. We haven't thought of a good punishment for him yet, and we could use someone to toss out to the wolves, so to speak." Cheryl starts up another protest, but I jab my elbow into her ribcage fast enough to keep her quiet. She turns a confused gaze on me and I shake my head, unable to offer any more explanation. "Alright, so I want Karina, Livia, Jacob, the prisoner, of course, and uh…Cheryl, and me -because what the hell would you all do otherwise- at the exit to Route 205 in four hours. That should be more than enough time to deal with any wounds received from the last battle." He sends the rest of the group to protect the city's perimeter, screwing up impressively few times.

Though I planned to make myself comfortable in an old shack I'd seen by the Pokémon Center, Cheryl insisted she take me back to her house. Scarlet seems happy enough as I follow the girl across the small town, her little body struggling to keep in step with Espeon. He tries to lose her but she's too persistent, her small body bobbing up and down with each bound. Cheryl keeps a few feet ahead of me at all times, never looking back or starting conversation.

She stops on the doorstep of a large, decrepit house covered with corrosion and whips around to face me. Her braid swings over her back, her eyebrows pull together in distress. "Okay, look. I really don't want to be rude or anything and please don't take this the wrong way, but, uh, do you want to take a shower or something? You smell really…just so bad. Like we have an outdoor thing over there that you can use, and you're more than welcome to just…have at it. I know staying somewhat clean is probably not your biggest priority, but my Chansey is just really sensitive to smell and uh..." her cheeks flush a deep red, her eyes avoiding mine. I awkwardly shove my hands in my pockets, trying to decide how bothered I am that she cares so much. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll just get some rice from inside and make some. Well, more than some. Like enough for most of both of our teams. I think we have plenty in the basement."

I feel Scout's eyes on me and make a point of not looking at her. "Uh, thanks. I think we're all really hungry." I don't think any of us have eaten in over a day. That's not really a problem for Scarlet or Dracula, who won't get any hungrier so long as they're kept in their Pokeballs, but Scout must be starving. My own body is weak and tired, with great claws of hunger digging into the sides of my stomach. A bit of rice could do us some good.

"Wait, so, you're passing on the shower?" The girl's eyes somehow get even bigger, disgust seeping into her expression. She anxiously cracks her knuckles; nervously opens and closes her fists.

I start to confirm her suspicion before realizing that apparently I smell so abhorrent to her that she can't handle it. We really need that rice, and she might let us stick around a little longer if I smell less repugnant. "No, I guess I'll take one."

She smiles in relief and nods, offering to show me how it works. Though I really want food more than anything, I let her lead me into her backyard. There's a decaying wooden structure next to her house, partially closed off at the top by a broken red roof. It stops about twenty-five centimeters from the ground, the dark stone floor showing underneath. A massive tank sits beside the shower, standing strong against the wall.

She starts setting up the shower, attaching a long hose to one end of the tank and some sort of metal object to the other. Her hands work masterfully through the whole process, something she must have completed countless times before. "We get our water from an aquifer just north of here, and then heat that water using Chansey's Fire Blast. There should be plenty of hot water in the tank; I heated it before the meeting because I thought it might help soothe my wounds. But, uh, you need it more than I do." She wraps her fingers around one of the knobs and turns, holding it out a bit so I can see it clearly. "Just turn this toward the wall to start. It's fairly easy. There, um, there should be soap in there already, and a towel, so don't worry about it." She smiles sheepishly at me when she finishes setting the shower up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Okay? That's pretty much all you need to know. Just yell if you need any help."

"I'll let you know, thanks," I try smiling at her, but I'm not sure how well it works. She looks scared for a brief second before she nods briskly, hesitates, then turns around and heads inside. Scarlet starts to trot after her, but Scout grabs her by the tail and yanks the little cat into her strong arms. The Shinx cries out in anger and tries to bite her team mate, but Scout easily incapacitates the younger Pokémon by tossing her over a shoulder. "Stop that Scarlet, you're acting like a child," I tell her simply, annoyed. She continues to struggle in Scout's grasp, kicking against the Fire-type's furry chest. I fish around in my pants for Scarlet's Pokeball and order her to return. She snarls but obeys, vanishing in a great flash of light. Scout waits patiently for orders, but I don't know what to tell her. This doesn't seem like a particularly active place, but I'm still nervous about leaving her alone. Her eyes dart to my pocket, and it takes me a moment to realize she wants to see Dracula again. I smile and let the Crobat out, telling the two of them to watch for danger and keep each other company.

I take off my first few layers of clothing and turn the shower on, tossing my change of clothes on the hot water tank so they'll be warm when I'm done. My eyepatch is the last thing to come off, and I hang it over the wall of the shower so I'll be able to grab it before I get out. The warmth is incredibly comforting, enveloping my body in heat and gently washing away the layers of dirt and blood covering my body. A thin sheet of mud soon covers the stone floor, spilling out into the grass. The soap nearly slips out of my hand, but I keep a decent grip and start to scrub away the weeks of desperate survival clinging to my skin.

A chill makes the hair on my legs and arms stand up straight, and the cold Sinnoh autumn seeps into my warm haven. Through the hole in the roof I can see leaves in a myriad of colors, holding loosely to their branches and occasionally drifting away with the wind. A bright red one swirls into the tiny room, landing in the pool of waste at my feet. The leaf spins around, making wide loops around me. The water pressure changes, the stream of heat weakening above me. I make the most of the last minute or so, mercilessly washing my irritatingly long hair.

I lean outside and shut off the water, snatching my towel in the process. Cold immediately overwhelms me, grasping hard to my freezing skin. I sit down on the bench inside the shower and shiver while wiping myself dry as fast as I can. For a little while I just sit there in the cold, trying to find a moment of calm before heading back outside. This little room makes me feel shut off from everything, but not so much that I'm trapped. Here I can just relax, freezing my ass off but able to ignore the constant stress of survival for just a few safe moments. I pull the towel even tighter around me and lean against the wall, bringing my legs as close to my body as I can for extra heat.

There's something on the other side of the wall, something warm and laughing. I press hard to the damp wood, drawing my body closer to the source of heat. I hear a light crackling sound amidst the drip of water and the whistle of wind. I will go out to meet it, but first I just need a few precious moments of stillness.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: GUNFIRE

Molly squirmed in my arms as I struggled to swallow back the tears, to ignore the burn in my chest and the sting behind my eyes. My heart went too fast, slamming into my chest rapidly like frantic steps up and down the stairs. Each breath came harsh and ragged, desperately sucking in air thick with the reek of death. "It's okay," I gasped, holding the newborn Wynaut closely and trying to keep her calm. "Everything will be alright. Don't worry about anything -I've got you," she looked up at me with her tiny, slit eyes. Her face was alight with naiveté, her tiny body wriggling in confusion.

The floor creaked loudly and I whipped around, loose hairs swinging to cover my eyes. My mother held a finger to her lips, her expression grim. Dull light pouring in from a high window made the dirt covering her uniform stand out against the regal blue. Her badge shone beneath a thick layer of grime, the well-crafted silver gleaming like fluorescent light under a dark film. She leaned against the wall, stretching back slightly to see outside. She held between her hands a dark, strange object unauthorized for "civilian" use in all eighteen Sinnoh city-states. The gun was both terrible and mesmerizing at once, an alien object rarely seen in this world. There was nothing about her that suggested anything but confidence and concentration; she feared neither the gun nor the situation at hand.

Blood splattered across the window, blotting out the light and separating it into much thinner strands across the shadowy hallway. My mother looked away from it and turned to me, taking in the sight before her.

"What is that for?" I asked before she could say anything.

She glanced at the gun, then back at me. "Negotiations."

"You-you think they won't listen to you?" My voice caught in my throat, and I fought against the urge to crumple up and cry, "The others?"

My mother shrugged and straightened slightly, her body still tensed. "I think there's going to be a lot of panic out there, and there's very little a few loud noises can't solve." I flinched at the sound of loud screaming from outside, a man begging for his life as the undead overwhelmed him. I breathed hard, trying to focus on anything else. My mother motioned for me to follow her before leaving down the hall. My legs shook beneath me; my body longed to sit back down. Molly's weight put me slightly off-balance, but like hell I was going to leave her alone.

I moved carefully up the stairs, eyes locked on my mother's dark form. She held the gun between her legs, her weight separated over two steps. Her body was enshrouded in shadow, the only light coming in from the small basement window now hidden behind us. There was a brief pause like a quick breath before she slammed into the steel door and forced it open. Light fell in, and I saw how she raised her gun out so anyone around could see it clearly. A PokeBall glimmered at her waist, its reflective surface shining back in the sun.

I smelled the acrid smack of decay, mingling haphazardly with the fresh traces of the outdoors. The air would normally be filled with birdsong and mid-morning pleasantries; raking leaves or the rattle of a rickety bike. But I heard only screaming and horrified cries; the occasional moan of a dying victim or the caw of an undead Staravia. Molly began to shake in my arms, releasing small hiccupping noises as if to ask what was happening. I clung tightly to her, making her squeal with sudden delight. We ascended the last few stairs carefully, emerging into the chaos of my city with cautious steps on the dry autumn grass.

A bright light appeared by my mother's side, her Espeon quickly shaking off the rickety feel of inactivity. She motioned for him to start moving ahead and he nodded swiftly in understanding, tail sticking straight up and ears pricking. My mother kept close to me, telling me not to look back and making sure I stayed between her and Colin.

We stuck to the middle of the street and I struggled to keep my gaze from wandering. There were dark masses on either side of me, messes of blood and staggering corpses occupying our once-quiet neighborhood. Once I heard a familiar voice begging for help, and for a brief instant I swore it was one of my classmates. He called my name over and over, then my mother's, then made desperate, gasping attempts to get Colin's attention. My feet faltered and my chest ached to go back and take him with us. Then the Espeon glanced back at me, his blue eyes meeting mine as if he could read my mind. I felt my mother's hand on my back and swallowed the feeling of human obligation, of desire to help the pleading victim.

My hands gripped tightly to Molly's warm body and I kept forward. We were approaching the town square, coming near the epicenter of any urban activity my life had ever known. I looked up to see a massive statue, a foreboding presence built to show reverence for the great god of time. The paint was long worn off, leaving the massive beast a towering sentiment to age and corrosion. The base should have been white, but instead it was decorated with clumsy spatters of dark red, some spots darker than others. My mother gripped my shoulder and steered me away from it, from the terrifying deity resting atop a pile of sacrifices.

Then we saw a writhing crowd, a bloodied and repugnant mass of shuddering bodies ambling forward. They thrived on hunger alone, were driven by nothing more than a desire for flesh. The stench of them penetrated my lungs and clung to my throat, lodging itself forever in my memory. I could feel my legs shaking, the need to cry once again overtaking me. My stomach tightened and bile rose to my mouth, chills of revulsion running down my spine.

I swallowed hard. Like acid the flavor made my chest burn, but my mother's hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality and helped me keep it down. Colin began to bark, letting loose a deep growl in his throat. He leaned back on his hunches, holding his tail high in the air and rocking it back and forth slowly. I could see every hair on his body standing on end, every muscle ready for battle. I had never seen a Pokémon so angry before, so filled with rage and instinctual fury that I honestly thought it would kill.

Molly began to cry, her tiny body shuddering in my arms. She let out loud, earsplitting cries, each one shivering in the cold and escalating in volume until quieting for just a heartbeat. I made tiny cooing sounds in her ear, holding her so that she wouldn't see what lay ahead of us. I knew she could still smell the horde, could still sense with confused but unwavering certainty that something about all this was distinctly and clearly _wrong_.

Another group of people faced the horde head on, slowly making their way through the crowd with a wide variety of improvised weapons. A crowbar lodged itself deep inside one zombie's skull, only for it to get stuck on the way out. The owner began to pull desperately to free it, panic consuming his face. Several other zombies closed in on him, burying his frantic cries beneath their disgusting bodies. Blood burst forth from where he was standing, and I turned away before I saw any more.

My mother looked over them with a mask of concentration. Her gun lay ready at her hip, her finger poised on the trigger. She started to move, then stopped and looked down at Molly and I. "Let's go, I know a better way."

We backtracked to the statue, making our way south and then around the horde. Molly whimpered softly, her fur wet with tears. My arms ached from carrying her for so long, but she couldn't walk and I wasn't about to hand her off to my mother. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay," I said quietly in her ear, keeping her close to me. "Everything will be okay."

"Shit," my mother hissed, stopping dead in her tracks. Roughly twenty meters away from us was another group of undead, shambling in our general direction. I looked up at her, my throat tightening at her expression. Her eyes were wide, dark green irises completely visible and utterly panic-stricken. Her neck moved strangely as she gulped, her face turning pale.

Colin snarled but didn't bark, keeping as silent as possible. He glanced back at us, freezing when he saw my mother's face. Fear and confusion lit up his eyes, his growl growing quiet. My mother spoke low and fast, her voice strong and steady. "Cheryl, you know where the emergency kits are, correct?" I nodded and she kept going, "I need you to go back to the house and grab the one labeled CLASS ZERO. There are emergency rations in there for you and Daisy. Take all of the food we bought Molly and put it wherever it will fit. Grab any and all Vitamins in the cabinet, especially anything with C or B12. Take the big metal bat from the garage and strap it to the backpack the emergency kit should be in. The one with the red stripes. Do not come back here. Go north until you hit the mountain you and dad used to hike on. Then turn west and go through the Forest. When you get to Floaroma, go straight to Grandpa's house and nowhere else. Do you understand?"

My mouth was dry; my heart racing so fast it hurt. I had never heard her like this, never heard her so frantic or scared. My mother was supposed to be invincible. "But mommy what about you? How are you going to meet us?"

She places her gun in its holster and bends down, gripping my shoulders hard. Our eyes, the same exact shade of dark green, lock in a desperate gaze. "I'm not going to meet you. You have to protect yourself and Molly from now on, and I'm sure Daisy will be a big help." I started to cry and turn away, but she grabbed my face and forced me to look at her. "You have to do this Cheryl. It's going to be hard, I won't lie to you. But you have to live. You have to survive this and make sure your Pokémon are safe. I love you more than anything in the entire universe, Cheryl. I would do anything for you. And I would go with you if I honestly thought there was some other way. But there isn't, and there is absolutely nothing you or I can do about it."

"No, please, don't do this! We'll figure something out!" Molly began sobbing in my arms, my tears mixing with hers on her soft blue fur. I shook out of my mother's grasp, my body shuddering furiously. I cried out with every fiber of my being, unable to comprehend why a mother would have to leave her eleven-year-old daughter to fend for herself. "Please! Please!" She covered my mouth and told me to shut up, her gaze boring into mine. I closed my eyes and fell silent, pushing my face into her hand. She gently wiped away the tears and stood up, taking her gun out again. I sniffed and took in a shuddering breath, feeling heat radiating from deep within me.

"I need you to go now, Cheryl. I promise I will do everything in my power to find you again, but I can't guarantee you anything. Now go home, get your supplies, and run away from here." I stared at her for an extra moment, committing my mother's face to my memory and telling myself everything would be okay. Then I turned and bolted back toward the house, forcing my legs to move as fast as they were capable. I nearly tripped and fell when I heard a loud, terrifying blast rip through the air. Three more went off, each one echoing against my skull and sending shockwaves through my body. I kept running, holding Molly close to me and praying my arms wouldn't give out.

I scrambled down the stairs beside my house and into the basement, heading straight for the utility room in the back. Five backpacks hung on the wall; four of them identical with "CLASS ZERO" written on them in big black letters. There was one for each member of my family and their respective Pokémon, and I only took the one labeled "CHERYL AND DAISY".

I let Molly down and gathered the Vitamins and Baby Food into one massive Ziploc bag. The backpack was nearly filled to bursting, but I managed to shove the last few items we needed inside. I let Daisy out of her PokeBall and told her to carry Molly in her pouch. The Chansey was a bit surprised at first, but understood the dire look on my face and quickly swapped the little Wynaut for her egg. Molly seemed to like it there, smiling and sinking low against the warm belly.

The bat was a little too high for me to reach, so I turned over an empty trash can and climbed on top of it to grab the weapon. Daisy paced nervously, her face contorted in confusion. I pulled the rope to open the garage doors, putting my whole weight into dragging it towards me.

As the doors lifted they slowly revealed a bright, heaving form shining in the light. I ran to the Pokémon and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his soft purple fur. I couldn't cry anymore, but my eyes still stung. Colin licked my face once before leaning back and looking at me gravely.

My chest felt tight; my legs weak. That was all I needed to understand. There was nothing left for us here. Not my sister, not my father, not my mother, not my friends. After eleven years born and raised in Eterna City, I was finally and utterly alone. And as I stared into Colin's broken, grim eyes, I saw that nothing in my life could ever hurt me more than this. Nothing could ever make me feel this much pain and anger. Nothing could ever take so much away from me.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: REVIVING LIGHT

Our footsteps echo against the cold tiled floor and stained beige walls. The atmosphere is thick with the pungent stench of decaying flesh and aging mold. Each ragged breath grasps desperately for clean air; my neck is cold with sweat and my heart pounds. I squint into the darkness, struggling to see beyond the small pool of light flickering outward from Scout's tail. She moves apprehensively, her muscles tense and defined beneath dull orange fur. Her body heaves with excitement and exhaustion.

Scarlet walks beside her, tail held high and sparkling with electricity. She's learned well since her first encounter with the horde; she no longer expects Scout or me to protect her. She rushes into battle without thinking, but seems to know that if she gets hurt she's the only one responsible. Of course, if I didn't think she could handle herself I'd never let her fight. But she's never been weak or completely foolish, so I trust her to be independent as far as battles are concerned.

My crowbar feels light and powerful in my right hand, its tarnished surface gleaming in the shuddering firelight. Adrenaline courses through my veins and begs for more, begs to have its lust for violence satisfied. Our enemy waits beyond our field of vision, keeping to the shadows where it can strike from without fear.

If ever the undead have reason to worry, this is the time and the place for it. We expected more of a challenge, bursting through the large glass door with all cylinders aflame. Dracula began the slaughter with a wave of psychic energy, bringing the entire horde to a state of mass confusion. As they flailed and stumbled in the darkness Scout, Scarlet and I hunted each one down, covering ourselves and the dank room surrounding us in gore. Scout was particularly driven to kill; unleashing great flames that barely avoided scorching the building.

Cheryl grasps my shoulder suddenly and I spin around. She looks terrified, flinching away from me. "What?" I ask, my voice harsh and strained.

Her eyes are wide and black in the darkness. There's sweat on her forehead, loose strands of hair clinging to her skin. I can see a dark streak of blood on the side of her face, running over the mass of bandages. "I can hear something. I think it's above us." She's very quiet, barely above a whisper. "Just stay quiet; I don't know what to do about it."

"What do you mean 'above us'?" Scout and Scarlet approach me, bringing the light with them. I stare at the ceiling, barely able to make out a strange, shifting shape. My vision feels with white and I blink several times to get rid of the dark purple bruises that appear. Cheryl gasps and Scout lets out a loud cry, her flame exploding into a massive blaze.

High above us, a huge mass of bulging flesh clings to the ceiling. There is no clearly defined face or head, its entire form shifting and changing randomly. Disconnected body parts float around in a dark red gel-like substance, a mess of unnatural pieces hanging from its horrible form. It begins to shift, sliding like a sick Gastrodon across the ceiling and beyond our small ring of light. Scout bolts forward and we run after her, following closely behind the bouncing, flickering fire.

She stops suddenly and backs up a few steps, each one echoing loudly in the complete silence of the room. I see her body tremble, her flame diminishing. Cheryl pulls a flashlight from her bag and points it toward the wall. She recoils instantly and her hand shoots out to cover her mouth. I feel bile rise to my throat, and I look away quickly. I bend over and put my hands against my knees, swallowing back the sharp taste of vomit.

Cheryl's Espeon cries out and the silence shatters. Loud moans and screams build to a great crescendo, a deafening blast of sound. Purple light flows out from Espeon's body and sends the rotten Shinx clinging to him across the room and into the shadows. A Buizel, its fangs clinging loosely to his mouth, jumps for Scout and she barely responds fast enough. Her flames knock him out of the air but he keeps coming. Jolts of bright yellow sparks wash over it and somehow cause its head to explode. Scout stares at it, her eyes wide and her body stiff. Scarlet snarls and yells at her team mate, breaking the Monferno out of her stupor.

My crowbar makes contact with a soft form, blood splattering in my eye. I feel Cheryl at my back; hear her bat crack against weak undead bone. The light barely illuminates the area in front of us, making the crowd of bleeding beasts blink in and out of clarity. I thrust my weapon forward into what I think is an undead Zubat, and then swing it around to take out another as it leaps for me. Dracula's massive body vanishes into the darkness, her screeches mingling with those of the undead. A Buizel approaches me, its back arched and its black teeth bared. It growls and lunges, mouth snapping for my neck.

I impale the rotten thing on the end of my crowbar and toss it aside, spinning my weapon so I can use the curved end for battle. I hear a loud, lively cry to my right and notice a burst of lightning in the corner of my eye. Turning slightly, I suck in a breath and take in the image of Scarlet's excited, happy form. Her smile shudders, reflecting the weak light; her tail curls and uncurls, flexing in eagerness.

She doesn't see the Shinx leap for her, doesn't notice when it digs its claws into her small hide. She cries out, but not in pain. Her body explodes with electricity, and pain races through my body. Cheryl yells and collapses to her knees, while Scout freezes completely. Scarlet's body erupts in light, rays shooting out and covering the room in brilliance. More lightning shoots out and my knees give out. I fight against the throbbing ache to look at her, watching in rapt awe as her form changes and expands. The undead around her are riddled with electricity, their bodies shaking violently.

As the light fades back to Scout's flame, I see the Luxio's eyes open and her smile widen. She roars triumphantly, tail swinging around in agitation. Sparks rush up and down her sleek body, her shiny fur gleaming. My chest feels heavy and my heart swells with pride, my lips spreading involuntarily into a wide grin.

Cheryl slowly stands up, shaking off the effects of the electricity. She holds out her hand and I grasp it tightly, letting her pull me to my feet. She smiles and pants, embracing the joy of evolution for just a moment. It takes her an extra second to let go of my hand, and I pull it away from her so we can fight.

An incredible roar sounds behind us and we turn toward the mass of moving flesh holding tight to the wall. Scout shifts, her flame expanding in preparation. Dracula reappears at my side, her mouth covered in blood. I stare at her in shock and start to ask, then decide I really don't want to know and figure I'll find out later. She hovers next to me, her wings drawing the awful stench around us. Cheryl exhales deeply and holds her bat tightly in both hands. Her Espeon drops down beside her, ready to strike. She shoots a confident glance at me and I return it, feeling my heart race with exhilaration.

The mass of flesh has formed a sort of head for itself. A section of it bulges toward the ceiling, and even in the shaky light I can see a floating collection of organs inside it. I don't feel sick anymore looking at it. There simply isn't time to question the nature or consider the meaning behind such an abomination.

We'll decide what it is later, but for now all we need to know is that it's a threat.

It reaches a slimy appendage toward us and we scatter like Ratata in the light. Scarlet and I run to its side, barely able to see our enemy in the darkness. She unleashes a storm of thunder and its body shakes violently, rippling outward from where the lightning first made contact. It regenerates too slowly, unable to handle a blast of purple energy fired from the opposite side. It cries out, but I can't tell from where. It has no discernible mouth, the sound emanating from every part of its body at once.

Scarlet shocks it again, blasting it while Scout scorches it with powerful flames at the same time. A small ball of energy circles in front of its face, and it flattens against the wall. Its body changes form rapidly, pieces shooting out over the wall and into the shadows without any rhyme or reason. I see part of its "head" float down to the ground, the mass of vital organs swimming in a stew of rancid, bulbous pulp.

Without thinking I stab my weapon into it, sliding through the flexible surface with ease. Hot, horrible liquid covers my body, blinding me momentarily. I jump back, but the substance keeps flowing outward.

I curse and duck as a bolt of electricity flies through the air just over my head. The lightning penetrates the thing's body, and its insides light up in a fantastic array of colors. Each piece of abandoned body parts is illuminated, and I see that it is a combined mass of human and Pokémon pieces. It screams in agony and begins to sink to the ground, its innards spilling out even faster than before.

The wall behind it suddenly begins to shudder, large cracks splitting the concrete. Dull evening light pours in from outside and we step back to watch the building give in to our onslaught. Scarlet jumps behind me while hissing loudly at the failing being. The wall crumbles and falls, leaving a great hole to the outside. The shuddering thing slides out after it, screeching loudly as it slips out to the ground. We follow after it, and I barely manage to avoid slipping and falling in the trail of blood it leaves behind.

It lands hard on the ground below, spilling into the grass and staining the earth. Most of its mass is left on the side of the building, a dark trail leading straight down. We all lean over the edge, breathing hard and squinting in the light. Cheryl's clothes are coated in blood, and her hair is drenched with sweat. Her Espeon shakes his body to dry off, then grimaces when he sees is isn't working. Dracula flaps over to me and grabs on to my back, causing me to nearly fall backward. Scarlet's tail sweeps across the ground, bathing itself in bright red. Scout does not come near us, choosing instead to stand alone on the other side of the gap in the wall.

Cheryl says my name and I turn to her. She isn't looking at me; her eyes are locked on the ground far below. "What…what was that thing?"

I don't get to answer her. We hear footsteps and whip around in surprise. Brandon and a girl named Karina look around the room with expressions of pure horror. They gape at the ground, then at our blood-covered forms, then at the massive hole in the wall. A Roselia and a small-looking Prinplup walk behind them, their faces just as terrified as their trainers'.

The sight of the Prinplup makes my chest ache. The more I think about what happening in Twinleaf, the more I know it was my fault. But more importantly, the more I think about it the more I know I shouldn't. I swallow the memory and refocus myself on the problem at hand, staring indignantly at the other trainers.

"What the hell happened in here?" Brandon is visibly baffled by the state of the room, his face contorted in confusion.

"We fought zombies." I don't know what else he expects me to say. What, does he think we performed a massive human sacrifice? He saw what it was like on the lower levels, why would he be so shocked about what happened up here?

"Well no shit, I meant why is there so much blood? I've never…I've never seen this much in one place." He and Karina cross the room and step into the puddle the mass of flesh left behind. Roselia looks at it and scowls, eyes narrowing in annoyance. "And it's such a strange pattern too…"

Cheryl starts to speak, then stops when a loud noise erupts from the walls. Loud bangs sound across the ceiling, and for a second we all fall into fighting stances and prepare for more battle. But as the banging moves toward us we realize it's the sound of the electricity coming back on. The lights burst to life, quivering a bit before turning on bright and strong.

Karina smiles and shrugs, taking in the sight of the brightly-lit room. "I guess it doesn't really matter. We got the Windworks functioning again, and that was our entire goal. Well done." She isn't looking at me when she says it and I hardly care. I'm glad Cheryl's house will have hot water and electricity again, but ultimately our actions here won't affect me at all.

Scarlet rubs her sleek body against my leg and smiles, her face alight with pride. I look down at her and smile slightly, thinking that maybe our actions here were important. Scarlet is a lot stronger now, and seeing that look on her face is worth all of our fighting here and so much more.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: BIRDS WITHOUT WINGS

I lie back in the grass, finally giving in to my body's overwhelming cries of exhaustion. Warmth wraps around my feet and crawls up my legs, fueled by the crackling fire placed carefully in a low ditch. Scarlet purrs softly by my head, her tail sweeping back and forth over the ground. Her eyes are closed and her body is relaxed. She's happy with her new form, and I'm proud of her for it. I hadn't expected her to evolve so quickly, but different Pokémon go through evolution at different rates. Even among members of the same species, evolution for one individual can be radically different from that of another. The professor told me Scout would evolve after only a few weeks of training, but it actually took her several months. Even now, she's been with me for more than four years and still hasn't evolved into an Infernape.

Not that I really care, of course.

Scarlet opens one dark eye and fixes it on me, slightly narrowed and glazed over with relaxation. I absentmindedly catch her tail as it swings by, and she pulls it away quickly. She smirks a bit and yawns, teasing me by tickling my nose with her tail. I grab it again and she rolls over, squirming so she lies beside me in the dry brown grass.

Looking up towards the burnt orange sky I notice I'm resting directly below a sharp overhang sticking out from the crumbling wall of the Windworks. Dracula's small feet grip it tightly, her body completely still in the open evening air. She runs her wing over her face a few times and gazes out over us, taking in our ragged group with hazy red and yellow eyes.

"So what are you going to do now?" Cheryl sits close to us with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her clothes are decorated with splotches of blood, stained probably forever like mine. Pieces of hair wave in the weak autumn wind having wrestled free from her frizzy braid. She isn't looking at me; her eyes are locked on the dancing flames before us.

I sit up a bit and lean my weight on my hands. "Leave. Accidentally start another wildfire. Basically just keep moving and head on to the next town." Scarlet rolls over and moves closer to the fire, sitting down beside Scout at its edge.

"I could help you, you know. Show you the way to Eterna-"

"Thanks, but that won't be necessary. We have a map…somewhere. And besides, worst comes to worst we can have Dracula fly up and direct us out." I yawn and cross my legs, putting my face in my hands. Shadows flicker on my pants, dark stains visible even in the dying dusk light. She shouldn't come with us; she's much safer here where there's electricity and a community of people dedicated to keeping each other alive.

Cheryl's Espeon pads over to her and pushes his face into her lap. She releases her knees and lets her legs loosely cross. "But…I mean won't it be more helpful to have an extra set of hands? If someone gets hurt I can help with first-aid, and it's not like I can't fight…" I raise my head and give her an exasperated look. She goes quiet immediately, locking her gaze on the Pokémon in her lap. She scratches behind his ears and he thumps his tail against the ground, making small squealing sounds and closing his eyes. "No, but, I mean, we won't be a burden or anything…we've been through Eterna Forest before. It was a long time ago, yes, but I'm sure we'll remember once we get there."

"Just because you went somewhere a long time ago doesn't mean you remember exactly how it looks and works now. Hell, I've been through Oreburgh Gate several times and I couldn't even tell you where the main entrance is anymore. Things change in a few years, Cheryl. And, anyway, we don't have enough food for four extra people and Pokémon. We barely have enough for us." I keep my voice low because we're far from alone. The other people from Floaroma are here, talking loudly to each other and heating pieces of hardtack over the fire. Pokémon bounce about in the grass, pretending to battle and occasionally letting loose great bursts of light. A pair of wrestling Buizel tumbles out of the brush and breaks apart on the uneven soil. One of the trainers sitting around the fire turns to look at them and they go right back to playing. She shrugs and laughs when a boy leans over and whispers in her ear.

"I want to go with you." Cheryl turns to me and her eyes drill into mine. I try to avoid her surprisingly powerful gaze but I can't.

I exhale and shake my head quickly. "You can't. It just…you can't, okay? I mean, why would you even want to? You have electricity here. That means warmth and food and light are available to you whenever you need them. There are all kinds of things out there you don't want to face. It's cold and dark and you can literally die at any moment. Why leave behind all that," I gesture toward the town with a flick of my wrist, "for a life like this?" I don't need to point out our scars or the dark stains on our clothes. I don't need to show her the jagged canyon of raw pink flesh dug permanently into my face, or show her how my skin does little to cover my jutting ribs. She knows, as well as anyone else here does, the dangers of the wild and of wandering without a goal or home.

Scout lays her paws on the ground and spreads her legs out in front of her. The fire forms a bright halo around her silhouette, an outline of flickering orange surrounding a dark shape. The sight reminds me of sitting in the lab, in the room I used to call my own, leaning against the wall and panicking because I was about to turn my back on everything I knew. I remember how my partner saved me, how her shadowed form in the doorway brought me back to reality. Without her I wouldn't have left Sandgem and I wouldn't have earned these scars. Not just the ones I got after heading out on my own, but the ones from before then as well. Like the long streak running from my shoulder to my upper arm, a permanent memento of why fighting hungry, undead Starly barehanded is probably the worst idea ever. Without leaving home I never would have known what happened to Dracula or met up with Scarlet. Without leaving home these scars would mean nothing because I never would have taken their lessons anywhere. So regardless of how much pain I've suffered and how much I've lost, in a way it's all been worth it to know I can survive.

I suddenly see exactly why she wants to leave Floaroma.

"I have to leave, Jay. These people, they don't like me here. I have no loyalty to them and they don't have any to me. They think I'm dumb and useless and that I can't take care of myself because I'm from the city and because I'm only fifteen. But that's… that's so stupid! Brandon's twenty-one, and Karina's only seventeen!" Her voice is a harsh whisper, a violent hiss over the crackling flames. "But I know I'm not useless. Trust me when I say I can take care of myself. I have before and I can now. It doesn't…I don't care what they think anymore. I'm done proving myself to them. I just…now all that matters is that I can prove myself…to myself. I just need to know for sure I can do this. That I can survive and see what lies beyond the borders of this town. I want to see what happened to my hometown and to my house and to all the places I used to love when I was a kid…I promise you won't have to babysit me. I promise I have enough food and water for my team and I can bring extra for yours. I promise we won't be a burden." She leans closer to me and puts her hand on my leg, much too high for my comfort. Her eyes are alight with pleading and there's pain in her scarred face. I squirm beneath her grasp and she only grips tighter. "So please…please let us come with you. You're our best bet for freedom right now. I don't think they'll let us leave on our own…"

Her Espeon sits beside her with his hard gaze locked on me. His tail waves back and forth like the tall grass behind him, shifting with the gentle wind. For a second we're focused on each other, his wise old eyes digging deep into my consciousness. I suck in a shuddering breath; struggle to break free from whatever hold the strange psychic-type has on me.

The link shatters when something appears in the upper right of my vision. Cheryl follows my gaze and gasps, standing quickly. The other trainers around the fire rise like soldiers saluting their officer, all looking out into the distance. I get up, my legs shaking slightly, and squint to see the strange forms approaching us.

The fading orange sunlight gleams off their small bodies, each one floating in the crisp air gently but with purpose. They move slowly, gliding toward us as if pulled along by some unseen force. Some are noticeably larger than other but move no faster. They are one collective crowd of strange, floating forms. As they come nearer I notice a few of them are spinning around like balloons stirred by a curious hand. They're dancing, happy to be going wherever they're going.

I put out my hand as the first few approach. They're circular with little fluffy cloud shapes on their purple heads. Each one has stringy legs attached to their main bodies that swing about in the air. Their faces are mostly covered by a yellow X shape, like a big cross of tape over their mouths. The whole group of humans and Pokémon waiting patiently on the ground is frozen and silent in awe, watching the strange creatures drift on the breeze. One moves in front of the sun and floats toward me, its body getting bigger. I can't tell for sure if it's honestly getting bigger or moving closer, but logic tells me it's coming toward me so that's what I trust. I feel a very light pressure against my finger and look straight into the little being's tiny black eyes. It shakes its head against my hand and I realize it's nuzzling me like Scarlet sometimes does.

"I think it likes you." Cheryl stands beside me, examining the Driftloon on the end of my arm with shining green eyes. She's covered in blood and scars, her hair messed up and frayed. Her clothing looks ragged and hangs on her like a sheet. But despite, or perhaps because of, the immediate ruggedness of her appearance I find myself thinking she's beautiful.

I bring my hand closer to my body and the little Driftloon follows. Scarlet tries to swat at him and he rolls away from her, still running his body along my hand. She growls a bit but Scout puts her paw on the Luxio's back. They share a quick glance and then Scout holds her paw out to me. The Driftloon looks at her and then floats away from me, pressing to her matted fur and making a strange squeaking noise. Scout smiles slightly and looks at me with light eyes. _I like him. He's good._

Without thinking about it another second, I pull a PokeBall from my pocket and show it to the Ghost-type. He stops nuzzling Scout and looks at it, shuddering a bit. Then he bounces up and down and flips over, his eyes squeezing shut in what I take to be happiness. He snuggles against the PokeBall and I press the button on it twice. A bright light shoots out and consumes him, pulling him into its dark depths. It shakes once in my hand before making a loud click and shrinking down to transport size. I send the Driftloon out again and he goes right back to rubbing against me.

"What should your name be?" I ask the little creature. He flips again, which worries me because now I have no idea what that means.

Cheryl holds her hand out to him and he watches it carefully. She waves a finger back and forth and he follows it as well as he can before getting frustrated and rubbing his head on her chest. She grins and holds him, causing him to go still and shiver. "How about Marley?"

He breaks free from her grasp and I watch him float around us, making circles around Scout and Scarlet. "Why Marley?"

"Well he's a Ghost-type. I remember reading a book with a ghost named Marley in it and I always thought it sounded really nice." Scout swipes her paw through the air and shudders violently when it goes straight through the Driftloon's purple body. She looks at me in horror and I promise to explain type relationships to her later.

"Marley." The Driftloon floats to my face and flips over, watching me closely. "Want to be Marley?" He flips over again and bobs up and down. I pet him lightly on the little white tuft on his head and he squeaks in happiness. "Marley it is."

A loud chime sounds from the other side of the fire and we look over to see Brandon proudly holding a rather large bottle of wine over his head. "I propose a toast. For the reviving of the Windworks and the return of the Balloon Pokémon. I'm assuming everyone has a water bottle or something to drink this with." He goes around in the circle, pouring a small bit for everyone. He smiles when he gets to me and pauses, nodding slightly. "Right after this you get the hell out, alright?" I can tell he's only half joking.

We raise our drinks toward the sky, dying amber light gleaming off worn plastic and rusted metal. Marley hovers between Cheryl and I while Scout and Scarlet sit patiently at our feet. Dracula flies down from above and grabs onto Cheryl's back. She yelps and falls backward, causing the Bat Pokémon to take cover by Scout and Scarlet. I down my drink and offer her my hand, yanking her back to her feet. "By the way, I changed my mind. I think it'll be alright if you come with us for a little while."

She smiles widely and raises her voice more than she should. "R-really? That's great!" She throws her arms around me and squeezes, speaking right into my ear. "Thank you, thank you! I promise we won't be a burden."

I pat her on the back a few times before pushing her away to free my neck. "Right, just, uh, okay. Yeah, just try not to get yourself or anyone else killed." She nods swiftly and continues smiling, nodding up and down rapidly.

I step away from her and reach down to grab Marley. He gazes back at me and squeals, closing his eyes and shaking. I let go and he rams his soft head into my chest; it feels like I've been hit by a particularly light pillow. He settles down and snuggles against my upper arm; eyes still closed but face visibly relaxed. Scarlet glances back at me and watches us with a strange jealousy in her eyes. She gets to her paws and comes over to us, rapidly hitting my legs hard enough to hurt.

Instead of simply scolding her I bend down and rub behind her ears. I was hoping she'd get over her envy streak upon evolving, but apparently she's hardly matured at all. "What am I going to do with you…?" I sigh and keep scratching, listening to her purr loudly.

Brandon gives a short speech about the beauty of teamwork. I sit by the fire and hear it all, hardly listening. As much as I dislike him I have to admit he has a point with the whole "power of working together" thing. Without my team I'd be long dead. I owe them my life several times over, and with every new member I hope our bonds only grow that much stronger.

MARLEY HAS JOINED THE TEAM!

Name: Marley

Driftloon, Male

Ghost/Flying

Docile nature, quick-tempered.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: WILL-O'-THE-WISP

"Get the hell out!" Brandon slams the door shut and throws his back against it, chest heaving and muscles tense. He holds his machete across his chest with his white-knuckled right hand, the left braced on the lab wall behind him. His face is bright red and coated with a thin layer of sweat, bright green eyes poking out from underneath matted blond hair. There's blood on his weapon and his clothes. A bandage on his left upper arm is stained with red. The door shudders behind him and he pushes back hard, gritting his chipped yellow teeth.

I turn around, taking in the strange view of the old lab. My mind feels clouded but my sight is clear; the room feels unfamiliar but looks exactly the same as it ever was. The same mess is here too, with clothing scattered about and books left open and unread. I know it's night time, but the lighting betrays me. I can see every clumsily placed item on the cold tile floor and every speck of dust floating through the air.

Cheryl stands on the other side of the room with her bat held loosely in her hands. Her braid is darker and shorter than I thought it was, and her eyes gleam in the shadows. She watches us with a dull, empty expression. I suddenly feel very angry with her for not helping, but when I try to tell her to come over and give us a hand my voice fails me. The words die in my throat and leave behind no feeling or desire to speak them. I take a step toward her with my hand held out weakly. There is a powerful force pinning me to my spot and tying my arms to my body. I cannot identify it or begin to guess what it is, but I continue to fight it because I have to.

She looks very surprised all of a sudden, her eyes lighting up and growing huge. She takes a step back and I manage a step forward. There's a loud noise and Brandon cries out. I can't look back at him; I feel an intense desire not to. I keep my gaze locked on Cheryl as her body begins to shake. Her form comes into sharp focus, as if I'm standing just in front of her and studying her skin.

A long crack appears along her arm, traveling up to her shoulder. Blood seeps out of the wound, dripping off of her and on to the floor below. Each drop slams into the tiles and echoes around the room. Scars begin to spread over her face, over her eyes and into her hair. Her lips dry up and blood pools in her mouth. She reaches a dark hand to me before it too is consumed with tender, crumpled tissue. Fear runs wild in my body but I can't move. Any instinct I had to help her has vanished along with any recognizable piece of her appearance.

"I asked you a question, moron!" Brandon calls out to me from the doorway. I whip around to see the door has completely vanished, bright sunlight pouring into the room. Decaying hands are wrapped around his neck and torso, pulling him outside. "Who are you?" He stumbles backward and cries out amidst the moans of the undead. Blood splatters against the still-dark windows, but I can't see anything else through them. I start to run for him, but something harsh and powerful grabs my hand and holds it too tightly for me to get away.

Cheryl has vanished, replaced by strange dust in the shape of her body. The form has one long tendril of dark particles wrapped around my wrist, suffocating the circulation and causing it to go numb. I pull as hard as I can to break its grasp, but it only holds tighter and moves closer. For a second the shape is all I can see, flooding my vision with darkness. A deep cold washes over me and I shiver, the hairs on my neck standing straight. I rip my hand away from it and look at my shoes, rubbing my wrist where the wisp of dust had held it. My heart races and I feel cold sweat all over me, panic tearing into my mind and shaking it free from its desperate grasp on reason.

The chaos gives way to silence. I take a few steps toward the door, only now realizing I have no idea where Marley is. His PokeBall is not at my side, and I don't recall seeing him for long time. Not knowing gnaws at my chest and makes my body feel heavy with guilt, each step taking a great effort to conquer. I slowly grasp the doorknob and will my fingers to stop shaking. They are too weak to hold on, and I'm forced to wait a few heartbeats to work some feeling into them. With great care I try again, the knob taking much more effort to turn than it should. I lean into it and twist the brass handle, pushing until it finally relents.

Sandgem Town is empty and bright. Sunlight reflects off low roofs and glimmering water not far into the distance. For the first time in years I hear birdsong, an unfamiliar noise that taints the abandoned town with bizarre and uncanny innocence. It carries on the wind like Stary, floating through the air and landing carefully my ears. It rests there and fades, fluttering into its nest and flapping its small wings before settling. More come to rest in my brain, none leaving before the next arrives. The birds grow restless and begin to cry out, their calls bursting in my mind and forcing me to cover my ears. They do not cease their efforts to inhabit my brain, choosing to hammer at my hands and grow louder and louder.

"Do you know what your namesake is?" Leo's mother smiles down at me. I see now that I have fallen to my knees. The birdcalls fade into silence and I take my hands off my ears, still ringing from the terrible sound. Looking up, I noticed how strange her face is, kind yet uncaring. She does not look directly at me, only at the space I occupy. Her smile is otherworldly, small and irrational. "You were named after a creature said to live long ago. A songbird without a song; an animal called a Bluejay. Famed for its beautiful blue coat but often disliked for its talkativeness. Of course, you're not very talkative are you? Well, are you?"

"I- who-"

"Are you, Jay?" I stare at her in shock and shake my head furiously in a fruitless attempt to rid her from this place. "Are you, Jay?" She keeps repeating the question in the same empty tone, over and over again with zero emotion or connection. Her voice grows louder and though she hasn't moved I can now feel her breath on my face and her voice directly in my ear.

"Stop it! Stop it!" I yell, closing my eyes tightly and pressing my palms as hard to my ears as I can. She falls silent, the absence of noise immediately overwhelming. I wait a few more moments, desperate for the dream to end. I've ended nightmares of my own accord before, but this one is different. Usually as soon as I realize I'm dreaming I can get out. But I can't escape this.

I open my eyes into darkness. The Windworks building towers over me, crumbling and cracking not far over my head. A piece of cement tumbles out of the wall and plummets toward me. I roll away, covering my head instinctively and pulling my knees toward my chest. The debris explodes just beside me, and I scramble to my feet. Though I probably can't be hurt here, I'm sure as hell not taking any chances.

The door to the Windworks is hanging off its hinges. I can see straight through into the deep shadows of the building; I can hear a strange shifting behind me. Either way I'm in trouble, so I choose the path I'm probably more familiar with, moving quickly toward the doorway in case any more fragments of concrete choose to fall on top of me.

As I step inside the door I knew was barely clinging to its hinges slams shut behind me. Spinning around, I slam my body against the exit and feel cold steel push back against me. Massive metal bars crisscross over the door, completely indifferent to how much I know they don't actually exist. I push as hard as I can but they don't budge. I try to find where the door meets the wall but I can't; it's simply a piece of the structure now. There are no holes, no gaps where I could beg for help. There's no way out, at least not here.

Several loud bangs echo through the room, the series of lights on the ceiling sputtering to life with each slam. The ones above me turn on first, proving that I am indeed staring at a wall. As they advance across the ceiling they fill the room with light in massive increments. My eye takes a moment to adjust before I can see clearly. The light shines off still pumping organs coating the ground, blood covering the smooth, dusty floor and moving in long trails to newer puddles. A few of them are still attached to bodies, flies buzzing around their faces and the innards spilling forth from their torsos. They rest on harsh white, the same color covering the walls and the floor. There are no Pokémon here. Only human remains coat the floor of this place, and without thinking I take a step forward. Though I looked to make sure the path was clear, now I feel my foot crush a still pumped heart. Blood bursts over my shoes and the muscles immediately cease their pointless activity.

Every pile of human pieces shines under the cold fluorescent lighting. They bulge and shift, shudder and shiver in the stale air. I grip the crossed bars behind me and lean against the wall, swallowing a surge of disgust. Knowing that none of this is real, that it's my own mind creating these terrible things only serves to make them more difficult to grasp. My hands feel sticky with blood, and my face is incredibly tight around my scars. I have to escape this place; I must find a way out. I'm begging for something, anything. All I need is for this door to reopen, for a hole to appear in the wall. I just need to get out.

I run. A staircase waits for me as I stumble about in the mess of convulsing entrails, feeling thick, dark blood weigh down my legs and drag me back. I fight against the urge to stop, the urge to find refuge in this heaving mass of bio matter and beg for my mind to awaken me.

The railing is incredibly slick and hardly offers me any help. I slip and land in a pile of innards waiting for me on the stairs. Struggling back up, I grip the rail with both hands and haul myself into the darkness above. My foot slides out from beneath me but this time I catch myself. My hand manages to land in a spot devoid of gore, and looking up I see the steps above me are clean and white.

A cold wind greets me at the top. Looking out, I see that I've somehow managed to get myself on to the roof. The night is hard and freezing, filled with only darkness. There are no stars in the sky, and no city lights staring back at me from any direction. The turbines are still, massive spires barely visible in the shadows.

On the other end of the roof is a flickering light, a flame shaking back and forth in the wind. It illuminates a small but confident form, a short orange creature watching me with wide, calm eyes. I call out her name and she doesn't respond. My partner keeps her gaze locked on me, her tail flickering and waving behind her. I am drawn to her by a force I don't know, an undeniable power pushing me forward.

"Scout?"

This time she recognizes me. She jumps slightly and then takes a few steps back, each one echoing out into the barren night. I start to move faster, now running for my partner and hoping beyond hope that she can help me wake up. She doesn't move again as I come nearer to her, and when I get close enough I see that she's not herself. Her body begins to shiver and she stares up at me with wide, pained eyes. I reach out to her and she shakes her head slightly, her expression twisting into a mask of absolute terror.

"Scout?"

She suddenly covers her ears with her paws and collapses to the rooftop floor. A terrible screech erupts from her mouth, and it continues until it begins to sound like a siren. It radiates, pulsating in my brain and sending a shooting pain through my entire body. I keep trying to push toward her, to will this dream to end and for my partner's agony to cease. But the sound continues, and no matter how close I get she's always too far away.

I make one last attempt to grab her and she slams her blazing tail into the left side of my face. Pain tears through the puckered flesh and reopens the worst of the wounds. I check for blood, but even if I were bleeding to death I wouldn't be able to tell over the chaos of noise in my mind.

Wake up! I'm begging, pleading with myself. I need to get out, I need to survive this. Wake up, wake up…

Please wake up!


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: ON EXPECTATIONS

Cold hands grasp my arm and the façade shatters. The haze of sleep washes away, leaving behind only fragments of confusion and fear. I open my eye and stare bewildered into the quiet, freezing night. It tastes like pine and grass, in stark contrast to the sharp tang of death I swear I could smell in my dream. I feel sweat on my neck and under my clothes, chilling me to the bone. My breath drifts like a ghost in front of my face, a tiny wisp that quickly disperses into the air. As clarity returns the stars come into focus, a brilliant trail of bright white lights sprinkled across the sky. My heart pounds in my chest like a jackhammer, sending panicked blood racing through my veins. I blink hard and take in a deep breath, staring up into Cheryl's gleaming dark eyes.

I start and sit up, adrenaline making me believe her a threat. She puts her finger to her lips and holds on tighter, locking her gaze on mine. "Jay, are you alright?" She speaks in a harsh whisper, anxiety creeping into her tone. "You were tossing and turning and you even yelled a few times. I mean, you weren't acting like this at all last night and I was afraid you might be having a nightmare or something."

"I-I'm fine. Just had a nightmare is all." I shake her hand off me and rub my eye, wiping away the thin layer of crust that formed overnight. She sits back on her knees, hands resting in her lap. Her face is filled with concern and fear. Suddenly, she reaches out and presses her palm to my forehead. "I don't have a fever, I said I'm-"

"I just want to make sure…you look kind of sick." She takes her hand away and wipes my sweat off on her pants. "Just go back to sleep, okay?"

I reach behind me and locate my backpack. There's a large hole in the front, framed by charred fabric. I pull my PokeDex out and hold it toward Scout's flickering tail. The display gives me the time and date in dark grey, blocky letters. "No, it's almost my turn to watch anyway. Why don't you get comfortable?"

"No, I'm really not tired. Colin wanted to stay up later so I haven't been awake for very long. I can keep you company." I roll my eye but don't argue with her. I figure she'll go to sleep in an hour or so anyway, so I might as well let her do what she wants for now.

Marley floats over to me and hovers by my shoulder. Cheryl smiles at the little Ghost-Type and he spins around happily. As far as the PokeDex knows, Drifloon don't need to sleep. He's been awake with us all night, just sailing around on the wind and exploring the immediate area. He did the same thing last night, but traveled a little bit farther.

We left Floaroma two nights ago. Cheryl only had to collect some food and water from her house and tell Brandon what was going on. He was extraordinarily pissed off, but let her go nonetheless. I had assumed he didn't care about her, but when she told him she wanted to leave I saw a flash of pain and hurt on his scarred face. He gave me a brief glance of hatred, an automatic reaction like that of a shepherd losing one of his flock. For a second I felt kind of bad, but then I remembered this was her decision, not mine. It wasn't my fault she wanted to leave, so I shouldn't feel sorry for it.

I toss my blanket aside and slowly get to my feet. Scout always sleeps beside me, her tail a dull ember held above the grass. Scarlet is curled up beside her, snoring loudly. Dracula has gotten more used to our sleeping patterns, but still prefers to rest during the day. She tends to spend the most time with us during watch, as Marley likes to go off on his own and she'd rather lay beside us.

"Um, Jay, also, I keep hearing a really weird sound coming from the riverbank. It's like a gurgling or something. Every time I'd go to tell you it'd stop, so it's probably not a big deal, but I still thought you might want to know." She's looking down at her hands, playing with a string coming off her pants.

I narrow my eye and stretch my arms high above my head. "Hm…we'll wait a bit and then check it out. If we hear it again-"

She suddenly looks up at me with wide, startled eyes, as if she'd been electrocuted. "Did you hear that?"

"No…"

She stands up and walks a few feet away, her form a mass of black. I start to follow her and she holds her hand back, palm out flat. "I swear I just heard…it was really loud, too…" Marley moves to her side and rubs against her hip. She notices and holds him close to her body, arms wrapped around his spherical form.

A terrible sound erupts from a place out of sight. It's deep and pained, a terrible moan ripping into the dark, cold night. I grab my crowbar and wake up the Pokémon, ignoring Scarlet's loud meows of protest. Cheryl comes back and grips her bat with both hands, letting Marley float off on his own.

I tell Dracula to stay behind, and Cheryl does the same for Colin. We head toward the sound, all ears trained for it to repeat itself. As we move closer the river begins to take over, filling the air with great roars and splashes as water slams over rocks and struggles through ravines. Wind turbines reach toward the sky in the distance, their great forms black in the starlight. The moan breaks through the clamor, wavering over the sounds before collapsing back into silence. Cheryl shoots me a glance of worry and fear. Whatever's making that noise is in serious pain. It isn't the typical undead groan; there's someone alive and scared about this that makes it so much worse to hear.

Scout steps in front of us to lead the way. She brings us down to the riverbank, a sandy beach worn down by the water. We hear a much more constant sound now, an unending moan shuddering from behind a pile of rocks on the shore. Cheryl looks at me again and I nod, motioning for us to check it out. She waits for me to go ahead, nervously glancing around at the tall grasses growing right up against the sand.

I press my hand lightly against the smooth rocks, leaning against them and inching my way around to the other side. A small cry drifts to me, a sound like a Miltank calf longing for its mother. It mingles with the loud moans of pain to create a terrible mix of hurt and sadness. Scout's tail is calm, low; it's light flickers against the rocks and makes them shudder in the dark.

Breathing deeply, I step around the corner and almost immediately recoil. A large Gastrodon lies on its side, body heaving and flesh rotted. Blood drips from a massive gash on its stomach into a puddle on the ground, while its sunken eyes gaze hazily into the night. Its spine is partially exposed, a great network of cartilage dark grey in the light. Layers of skin lie about on the ground, leaving the creature a bright red mass of slick, aching flesh.

Beside it sits a Shellos, seemingly unharmed and uninfected. It cries out at the Gastrodon, making sad little sounds begging the older Pokémon to get up. It slides around in the sand, leaving behind a healthy trail of slime. Scout watches the scene carefully, still prepared to fight but not about to attack. Cheryl stands at my side and opens her mouth to speak. I hold out my arm and she falls silent, looking down at the decaying Pokémon before her.

Scarlet begins snarling and pawing at the ground, kicking up sand and making herself even angrier. Scout tries to quiet her down, but it's too late. The Gastrodon finally notices us and manages to drag itself up. The Shellos at her side keeps crying and sliding around, ignoring the people intruding on their home. Scarlet starts to run forward but I grab her by the neck and hold her back, dropping to one knee so we're level with each other. She struggles in my grasp, but I hold her tight enough that she can't escape. She settles down as I tighten my grip, reluctantly deciding to shut up and listen to her trainer and team mates.

The Gastrodon roars at us and weakly pushes forward, moving so that it stands between us and the little Shellos. Cheryl breathes in sharply and grips my shoulder, her hand covering her mouth. "Jay, I…I think that's her child." The Sea Slug Pokémon struggles to stay standing, hey body shaking violently. "She's trying to protect her baby…"

I stand up again and grip my crowbar tightly. Scout glances up at me with a face full of suspicion, waving her tail back and forth in the crisp air. "What are you going to do?" Cheryl asks, voice low and quiet. I inhale sharply and look at her, not sure how to go about explaining my decision.

So I don't.

I step forward and raise my crowbar high above my head, aiming instinctual. The Gastrodon yells, infected saliva landing on my jacket and face. I keep my lips closed tightly and hold my breath, staring straight into the Pokémon's pained, sorrowful eyes. Marley floats to the Shellos and begins circling around it, distracting the little Pokémon from what I'm about to do. Closing my eyes, I bring my crowbar down as hard as I can. It breaks through the slimy cartilage with ease, lodging itself into the brain. The Gastrodon screams in pain, and my heart skips a beat. I pull my weapon free from its skull and jump back, suddenly horrified.

"It…it's still…but how can…" I stammer, my hands shaking furiously. How can it still feel pain? How can it let out a cry filled with so much agony? Cheryl grasps my hand and yanks me backward, stepping forward to finish the job herself. The pained creature cries out one last time as I feel its blood splatter on my face and see it stain the sand. Scout walks over to me and shoots me a look of empathy, gently placing her warm paw on my leg.

I've never seen a Pokémon fight against the virus like this. I would never expect to see an undead Pokémon cry out in pain before finally being put out of its misery. I thought people did it because they could still feel pain as zombies, but not Pokémon. They're just creatures of instinct; they willingly fight each other for sport! How could an undead Pokémon make a sound like that, filled with such human agony? How could terminating the undead make me feel like this, like I'd killed something alive and sentient? I didn't feel anything when I killed Emily, and she was a person with a name and a face. Why do I feel so confused now, after killing a cold, unfeeling creature that in just a few short hours would sooner eat its child than protect it?

Cheryl grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard. I push her off of me as hard as I can and step back, nearly tripping over a rock. "Jay, it's okay! It's okay! You did what you had to do! It would've ended up hurting that Shellos if we didn't step in! Probably us too!"

"How can we know that? How do we know it hasn't been fighting for a really time? How do we know it didn't really love that Shellos and want to keep it safe? How do we know it didn't feel pain? How do we know-" She slaps me hard, right where my scars are. It stings terribly but does the job. I shut up and look at her, taking in her bewildered and disappointed glare.

"We don't, and we can't. We did what seemed like the right thing to do. Don't you dare…don't you dare act like you've never made a decision like this and that you don't know we won't have to make more." Her voice drops and she looks away from me, scowling. "You could've gotten yourself killed. Please don't do stupid things like that…I- we…can't afford to lose you." She waits a moment longer before walking away from me. "I'm going back to camp with Scarlet. Please don't make us come back for you."

Scout looks over the Gastrodon's rancid carcass, her eyes narrowed. Marley continues to spin around the Shellos, causing the little Water-Type to giggle gleefully. I walk over to them and Marley stops, ramming its light body affectionately into my chest. I hold him tightly and look down at the Shellos, deeply hoping he doesn't hate me.

It takes him a while to see we've killed his mother. He slides over to her and stands beside Scout, staring in silence at her broken body. For a second I expect him to attack us, to get angry and douse Scout with a burst of water. But instead he slowly turns around and scoots over to me, his round face sad and somber. He sits down before me and I kneel to see him better. His eyes meet mine and without another thought he begins rubbing his slick body against me. I put my arms around him and look at Scout, whose careful eyes are unreadable.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out an unused PokeBall and show it to him. He watches it warily for a few moments before quickly pressing his nose against it and smiling. I press the button on it and he's sucked into the ball by a bright light, vanishing completely.

Scout and Marley stand beside me as I call him back out. "What should your name be?" He makes a strange gurgling that sounds so bizarre I have to grin. "How about Lenny? You look like a Lenny." I pat his head and he nods, bouncing up and down a bit. "Alright then, Lenny. This is Scout, and the Pokémon you were playing with is Marley. I'll introduce you to Scarlet and the others when we get back, but for now, welcome to the team."

LENNY HAS JOINED THE TEAM!

Name: Lenny

Shellos, Male

Water

Naïve nature, very finicky.

END OF PART THREE


	31. Chapter Thirty

PART FOUR: BOILING POINT

CHAPTER THIRTY: A FEAST

I bury my hands deep into my pockets and squint against the cruel, biting wind. The cold penetrates my thick jacket and raises painful bumps all over my body. Shivering, I grit my teeth together and clench my fists tightly within the soft, worn fabric. The sun glares down at us from a swiftly darkening sky, refusing to contribute to our efforts to keep warm under its indifferent gaze. A massive, decrepit old house looms over our little group, casting a great shadow onto the forest floor below.

"This is literally the creepiest place I've ever seen." I say as soon as I get my shivering under control. Cheryl nods quickly, eyes narrowed as she looks the crumbling building over. The windows are gone, the glass long shattered to leave only shadowy holes. The roof over the right wing sags, about to collapse from the weight of disrepair and old age. "It's like a set for a really bad horror movie."

Cheryl goes silent for a short moment, shivering and staring at the abandoned house. She puts a gloved hand over her mouth and coughs a few times; each one quick and hoarse. "I think we should go inside."

I start to object, but immediately think better of it. "You don't think we'll find someplace less…sketchy?"

She shakes her head rapidly, pursing her lips. "Nope. I'm afraid this might be it until we get to Eterna. We could keep trying, of course, but I wouldn't want to be caught out in this cold in the middle of the night." She pauses and looks over at me, grinning. "Don't tell me you're scared. _You're_ not allowed to be scared." Her cheeks and nose are bright red, with her hat awkwardly sticking out to the sides to give her the appearance of a rather tall elf.

"Of course not." I roll my eye and walk toward the entrance. Scout follows closely behind, nearly stepping on the backs of my shoes. Annoyed, I turn around to make her stop and freeze when I see how miserable she looks. As a fire-type she's in no danger of frostbite, but that doesn't mean she won't get cold or be uncomfortable. She sucks a trail of snot into her nose and I bend down to pick her up, grunting as I hoist her onto my hip. Between her weight and that of my backpack I can barely stand, my back aching and my legs shuddering.

Cheryl runs around us and pulls the door open. The wood is so worn and the hinges are so rusted that when she yanks on the doorknob the entire frame comes off. She yelps and jumps back, letting it fall noisily at her feet. I shoot her a nervous look and quickly glance around to make sure nothing heard us. The forest is still, its silence disrupted only by the occasional howl of wind through pale winter branches. She exhales loudly, gesturing to the darkness within the building. "After you."

I step onto rotted, creaking wood and strain to see in the shadows. There's enough light falling in from the holes where the windows used to be that I can make out several dense shapes. The foyer is mostly empty, with two large, crumbling staircases leading to the second floor. A monstrous statue keeps guard, glaring at us from its shadowy home. Scout squirms in my arms and I let her on to the ground. Her tail lends us a small pool of light, like a candle in a massive cave. She's still shivering, but I can tell her curiosity has gotten the better of her.

Cheryl walks in and stands beside me, her body quivering from the cold. She licks her lips and takes a few steps after Scout, stopping when the Monferno pauses to examine a hole in the floor. Still focused on the little chimp, she speaks to me without turning. "Hey, I always meant to ask but I kept forgetting, why don't you keep Scout in a PokeBall?"

"She doesn't have one." I approach the two of them and look down into the hole. Scout holds her tail over it so we can see inside, but it doesn't appear to be anything interesting. I suppose we could scour the basement for food, but anything still here should have expired a long time ago.

"Oh? How come?"

I shrug and lean back, yawning and trying to peer deeper into the darkness. "It got destroyed during the outbreak. Fell through a storm drain and shattered against the side. I was really scared at first, but it ended up not making any difference." I can barely see the outline of another doorway on the far end of the hall, distinguishable only by the black void it leads into. "Hey, wanna look over there?"

Not waiting for an answer, I pull a flashlight out of my backpack and hold my crowbar tightly in the other. Pointing the beam into the dark room, I stare into the shadows and move forward with cautious steps. The floor protests loudly, unused to bearing weight after so much time to itself. Cheryl quickly comes to my side and starts to aim her own flashlight into the gloom. Scout waits behind us, eyes narrowed.

An awful shriek explodes in my ear, and I whip around with my weapon held up and ready to strike. Cheryl stares at me with wide, startled eyes. "What the hell was that?"

"You mean it wasn't you?" She shakes her head vigorously, instantly making me very nervous. Scout scampers to us and begins a menacing snarl, her tail bursting into a sudden, massive blaze.

Something large and dark rushes toward us from the shadows. Its black body consumes any light around it, and the whole thing is surrounded by a thick purple mist. I react instinctively, swinging my crowbar into its mysterious form. The weapon passes through the mass's shape, slipping out of my hands and clanging loudly on the floor. I lose my balance and nearly fall over, catching myself on a railing. My shoulder stings painfully, but I ignore it and hoist myself up to my feet.

Cheryl and Scout stand back to back, looking around desperately to see the strange thing again. There's another loud shriek, and Scout covers her ears in pain. Another mass of darkness appears and races toward her. I see it move in slow motion, barreling toward my partner with an uncanny fury. My heart races and I try to grab her, my entire body going into hyper drive at the sight of her in trouble.

But then something strange materializes out of the dark mass. A long, pink, glistening shape reaches toward my partner, curling slightly on the end. It wipes over her face, making her fur stand on end and her tail let off a dark burst of smoke. She doesn't move, staring at the floating tongue with a look of pure horror on her wide face.

Cheryl snatches me by the arm and pulls me forward, making my shoulder cry out in pain. "Jay," she hisses, her eyes piercing even in the dark. "Where's your Pokedex?"

"Why?" What, is she suddenly really curious about where she can catch a Starly?

"Just give it to me." Trusting that this was somehow relevant, I swing my backpack down and pull my Pokedex out of the front pocket. She grabs it from my hands and flips it open, pointing her flashlight at it and holding it so I could see too. The light on top of it flashes a few times, and the word "ANALYZING" takes up the screen. After a moment there's a loud beep, and the image of a Pokémon I barely recognized appears. "That thing is a Gastly…and I don't think it wants to hurt us."

I pull Scout away from the bizarre Pokémon, holding her shivering body tightly. "Cheryl, it just attacked us. I really don't think it wants to do any good."

Cheryl takes a tentative step forward, reaching out a careful hand towards the gaseous thing. I inhale sharply when two huge eyes pop out of the thing's dark body, and a large, fanged smile dominates its "face". It examines Cheryl's hand carefully before suddenly lurching forward and sinking its sharp teeth into her. She gasps, but doesn't move, making no attempt to break the creature's grasp. I start to order Scout to attack it, but Cheryl tells us not too. The Gastly finally releases her hand and I realize it hasn't drawn blood or made any sort of mark on her. She smiles sheepishly and the Gastly flips over in the air, making a loud, happy shriek.

"See? What'd I t-tell you? It only wants to, uh, play…" Her voice shakes violently, but she keeps smiling at the Pokémon and doesn't back away. The Gastly floats backward before suddenly vanishing, and Cheryl slumps over. Scout leaps up and grabs her legs, while I catch her as she starts to fall over. I lift her hand toward Scout's flame and look over it carefully. No cuts, no blood, no injury of any kind. She looks up at me, suddenly grasping the collar of my jacket. "I'm okay, Ghost-types just have…weird effects on people. Maybe the bite actually did do something…"

"Cheryl, there isn't any bite…" I show her her own hand, flickering in the firelight. "See?"

"Oh yeah…" She starts to speak, but another shriek rips through the air. A massive group of Gastly materializes in the worsening shadows, all staring at us with huge, angular eyes. Cheryl steadies herself and Scout prepares to fight, smoke beginning to drift from her paws.

One of the Gastly slowly floats down to us, then turns around and leads the rest of the group into the next room. They rush past us, stirring the air and causing the stray hairs of Cheryl's braid to flap about wildly. Scout pulls her tail around her and growls a bit, still tensed for a fight. We wait for the Gastly to do something, leaning over toward the doorway and watching the shadows carefully. They shift about, and occasionally I can make out strange objects floating around with them.

After a few moments one of the Gastly comes out and stares at us. Cheryl tries to ask him what he wants, but he just keeps looking at her with the same bizarre glare. He makes eye contact with each one of us individually, then disappears back into the next room. By now the sun has almost set, and there's very little light coming into the house. The Gastly seem to have a strange illumination, like a personal aura that everyone can see. Scout begins to walk toward them, the floor moaning beneath her pawsteps.

"Scout, wait-" She looks back at me, then into the room. Her tail flicks back and forth over the dusty hardwood, her body noticeably more relaxed. She puts her paw on my pocket and I raise my eyebrow, not sure what she wants. Somewhat frustrated now, she violates my pocket and pulls out Dracula's PokeBall. The other PokeBalls falls out with it and scatter, rolling around. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" She yells at me and I just stare at her, surprised. She points into the room and I finally understand. "You want us all to go in there?"

I bend down and pluck Scarlet's PokeBall up from the floor, shooting Cheryl a weary glance. "Well…I guess we might as well. It's not like we have anywhere else to be," she remarks simply. I sigh, then go through the process of letting everyone out to play. Scarlet is immediately moody, pacing about and sniffing everything she can find. Lenny tries to follow her, but she hisses at him and Dracula steers them apart. Marley floats about randomly, looking just as content as ever. Cheryl releases her team too, and after a few minutes of stretching and getting used to their surroundings, all of the Pokémon look about ready to move on.

Scout goes first, moving carefully into the large, dark room. Cheryl and I use our flashlights to get a better view of the area, taking in the large dining room table and elaborate decorations. "It's so weird…almost like there's someone still living here."

I walk forward and pick a piece of food from the table. "I doubt it. I honestly can't tell whether this is bread or a very unique kind of fruit." Scarlet makes a face at the vast collection of rotten food and knocks a few plates from the table. Dracula shoots her a scolding glance and she paces away, avoiding the old Crobat's gaze.

"Pchooo!" I whip around to find the source of the strange noise, and come face to face with Marley. "Choo! Choo!" He squeals happily, flipping over once before drifting to another part of the room.

"Um, right." I follow him to the kitchen, a small area that hardly looks like it could feed as many people fit at the table. He floats to the top of the refrigerator and sits there, his stringy legs hanging over the edge. He taps the hard steel a few times, and I look at him quizzically. "I really don't think there's anything in there…" He taps it again, this time much louder.

"Pchew, pchew!" I shake my head and decide to humor him. The door is nearly rusted shut, but I manage to pry it open with my crowbar. Once I get it open it falls right off, revealing several shelves of rotten food within.

"See, Marley? Nothing here but…" I stop and look a little closer, a glint of glass towards the back catching my eye. I reach in and push aside the rancid produce, feeling cold fuzz on my bare hand. My fingers touch something smooth and dusty. I feel along until I can grasp it, and pull it out from behind the layers of long-expired food. I point my flashlight at the green bottle, grinning widely. "How the hell did you know this was here?"

"Pchoo…" Marley floats down and presses his face against the glass of wine. He puts his legs around it and I let him carry the glass around the kitchen. He holds it to the flashlight and makes noises into the reflection, squealing happily. I smile and lean back against the countertop, somewhat amazed by how much love a little Pokémon like him could have for something as random as a wine bottle.

He carries the bottle to me and tries to pry it open, but I take it from him and tell him we'll wait until just the right time. "This is for a celebration; we need to wait for something we can really celebrate."

"You don't think we can celebrate this?" I turn around to see Cheryl standing beside Scout, each holding huge bags of rice in their arms. "I think this is a pretty special occasion." She puts the rice on the counter and smiles in the dull light. "It's not every day you get to have a feast."


	32. Chapter Thirty One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: WHERE WE'LL MEET

A low growl rumbles out of Scout's mouth from underneath a piece of poorly-heated hardtack. She grips it hard with her teeth and tries to break it in half, pulling the piece down toward her chest. It snaps and she cries out in exasperation, chewing angrily on the durable cracker. She puts the other part on the dusty bedroom floor and curls her tail around to make it warmer. The sound of determined crunching fills the small room, mixing strangely with the creaks and moans of the old house. Her flame dances when a gust of wind rushes through the dark hallway and makes the rest of us shiver. She doesn't react, too focused on eating to worry about a little cold.

Lenny slides over to her and lies by her tail, watching it bob and flicker. His whole body expands against the uneven floorboards and flattens out, giving him the look of spilled liquid. Scout ignores him at first, but when he puts his face close enough to her that he could be burned she wrenches her tail back and shoots him a warning glare. The crunching resumes and Lenny doesn't move. His eyes follow the little fire and his flattened smile stretches across his wide face. Another breeze flows through the room, and his entire body shudders. His stubby limbs retract into him and he squirms a bit, shaking his spiny back. A tiny pop bursts from his mouth and he attempts to move closer to Scout. She looks down at him and scoots over, her eyes only lingering on his jelly body for a second before she closes them and makes a point of turning away.

The Sea Slug Pokémon makes another popping sound and follows her. She tries to ignore him, but as soon as his slime touches her every hair on her body stands up straight. She jumps to her feet and snarls, eyes narrowed with annoyance. Lenny watches her quietly, smile fading. He sinks further into the ground, looking even more goo-like than before.

Scout's flame sputters and she looks away from the younger Pokémon, swallowing her hardtack and pushing a dejected spurt of flame from her nostrils. Dracula walks over to them and stares at the blob that Lenny has reduced himself to. Scout starts to walk away but Dracula's cool glare holds her back. With unexpected care and gentleness, the Crobat places a cautious wing on the Shellos' slimy head crown. He smiles again and Dracula nods kindly, patting him several times. A thick trail of ooze clings to her furry wing and drips off in large globs every time she lifts it. Lenny makes another popping noise and starts to slide away, his body gradually reforming. Dracula wipes her wing on the floor and tries to give Scout a reassuring look. She's visibly disgusted by the strange gooey substance, but at least she's trying to be friendly.

Scout looks down uncomfortably and Dracula puts her slime-covered wing on the Monferno's shoulder. Then, as if suddenly realizing she has no interest in reconciling her behavior to her old friend, Scout swats the purple wing away and turns quickly. She sits down beside her backpack and starts to sift through it, not needing anything in particular but wanting a way to make herself look occupied.

From the center of the room Dracula watches the Fire-Type closely. Her yellow eyes narrow more in confusion than any sort of anger. She drags her wing against the ground absentmindedly, the sticky ooze gripping the floor and slipping off her. Lenny slides to her side and she smiles amiably at him. He grins and opens his mouth, tongue slipping out and bobbing up and down. He squeals very loudly, causing all the other Pokémon to turn immediately and look at him. Dracula becomes confused, but he makes the same sound again and this time rams his slimy head into her side. She cries out in surprise but accepts him, tentatively wrapping her wing around his small body.

Cheryl's Espeon, Colin, sees their exchange with tired eyes and watches with little interest. Her Chansey sits beside him, playing with the skinny Wynaut running circles around her. Colin sticks a lazy paw out in the Wynaut's path, causing him to trip. The Espeon pulls his paw back so quickly the Wynaut doesn't get a chance to see it. The baby Pokémon wobbles to his feet and looks around confusedly, finally settling on the Chansey for guidance. She motions to Colin, and the Wynaut turns to him angrily.

Colin grins mischievously and the Wynaut jumps on top of him. There's a small, annoyed growl before the larger Psychic-Type decides to play along, flipping over and bouncing the Wynaut up and down with his powers. The Bright Pokémon giggles loudly as he flies in the air over his friend's head, kicking and smiling a broad, open smile with every bounce.

There are several bags of rice lying at my feet, enough for a day or two of food. Despite calling it a "feast," last night's dinner hadn't really been any larger than usual. The only differences were the wine we consumed and the fancy rotting table we all ate at. None of our Pokémon seemed sure of what to do at their seats, despite not having eaten since breakfast. Lenny in particular was clumsy with his meal and spilled a lot of it, earning a sympathetic glance from Dracula and an aggravated glare from Scarlet.

In retrospect, we should've saved some of the wine for later. Cheryl is clearly hung over and getting drunk in a haunted mansion is one of the dumbest things we possibly could've done. But we weren't exactly out of control, and considering we're still alive and have no obvious injuries I assume we were mostly okay. I drank some alcohol back at the lab, but only on occasion and only if our water supply was getting dangerously low. Hardly enough to get a buzz, and never enough to get drunk.

But I assume it was Cheryl's first time, as she seemed disgusted initially and had a hard time until the first couple drinks were down. I told her she really didn't have to drink it if she didn't want it, but she said something about not wanting to let it go to waste and insisting on pouring some more. Now she's half-asleep and sitting beside me with her arms wrapped loosely around her legs. She's leaning on me hard, making it difficult to stay upright. Her breathing is thick and deep in my ear; her body is hot and limp against mine.

I press my hand to her forehead and she stirs, blinking up at me with exhausted eyes. "Hey," she mumbles before closing her eyes again and pressing closer to me. I lose my balance and nearly fall over, my hand smacking loudly against the floor to catch myself. She doesn't seem to notice, her face pushed tightly to my arm. "I don't feel well."

"Yeah, you look like hell. No fever or anything though, I'm pretty sure you're just hung over." I don't feel particularly fantastic either, but she's clearly much worse off. If I knew how to make her feel better I would, but I have no idea how to treat a hangover and I don't want to make her feel any more terrible than she already does.

She groans and attempts to sit up on her own. Leaning on the wall now, she spreads her legs out in front of her and rubs her eyes with her palms. "I've never felt so tired in my life…this was a really bad idea."

"Mhm, glad to see Captain Hindsight is still around to give us advice." She shoots me an annoyed glare from between her fingers and I roll my eye. "Sorry. You _are_ right, though. The wine would've been much more useful in a few weeks when we inevitably have a water shortage."

"Wait," she puts her hands in her lap and confusion fills her scarred face. "We have filtered water bottles, how could we run out of water? Not to mention all those packs I saw in Scout's bag…"

I shrug and yawn loudly, stretching my arms up above my head. "Just a guess. If you assume the worst is going to happen, you'll be more mentally prepared for it when it does."

"Hm…" she bites her fingernail and shakes her head a bit. "I don't know if I like that philosophy."

"It's not really a philosophy, more of a life lesson." Cheryl doesn't bother responding. Scarlet pads over to us and puts her face in my lap, curling into a ball beside me. I rub behind her ears and she purrs loudly, her body vibrating against mine. She glances up at me and I smile, entwining my fingers with her thick mane.

Cheryl draws her knees back up to her chest and rests her head on them. "So…how did you and Scarlet meet?"

I keep rubbing behind Scarlet's ear and she runs her tongue over her nose. "We met in Jubilife. Vol- uh, her trainer decided she liked me better and let her stay with Scout and I." I'm not sure why I feel like I shouldn't tell her about Volkner. Maybe I don't want to hear her get angry about how much of an asinine Champion he was, but then again why the hell should I care what anyone thinks about him? It's not like I'm ever going to see him again.

A bit of surprise breaks through her mask of exhaustion and she narrows her eyes in interest. "You saw another trainer? I thought Jubilife was supposed to be abandoned..."

"It was, he was just passing through." Scarlet yawns and rolls over, stretching her back out over my thigh. I scratch her stomach and she continues to purr contentedly.

"Was it the same person who gave you stitches?"

"Wait, what?" I stop scratching Scarlet and narrow my eyes at Cheryl in surprise. Scarlet glares at me angrily and starts up a low rumble in her throat. "How did you know I had stitches?"

She shakes her head slightly and suddenly looks very irritated. "Because I'm not stupid. The first time I saw you, I noticed those ugly-ass scars on your face. There's no way those are more than two months old. You told me yourself you left Sandgem in late October, so I just did the math and figured you must've had those stitches done while you were in Jubilife."

"But…how did you know the scars weren't that old?"

"I've seen some awful injuries, Jay. I've had some awful injuries," her eyes are harsh and filled with a sudden and unexplained anger. Her face is tight with annoyance, but when her mouth moves the jagged range of scarring on her cheek stays in place. "I've seen plenty of scars."

I bite my lip and look back down at Scarlet. She's stopped growling and is watching us carefully now, her eyes cold little slits. "Well, okay. But…uh, yeah I guess it was the same trainer that fixed my face. I don't think it really matters though."

"It doesn't. I just…" She trails off, the sternness in her voice disappearing. "Ah, this blows. I don't mean to be such an asshole, this headache's just taking a real toll on me. I haven't felt this physically drained in a long time."

"It's fine." I start rubbing Scarlet's stomach again, but she pushes me away with a large, fluffy paw and stands up. She stretches, sticking her tail in the air and yawning loudly. "We'll have to get moving today though…even if we don't feel all that well."

Cheryl groans and buries her face in her hands. I watch Scarlet slink away to the other end of the room, an old pile of glass having apparently caught her eye. Cheryl and I sit beside each other without speaking for a while. I think she's gone back to sleep, but her voice suddenly tears through the quiet. "I don't even know why I want to go to Eterna."

"So you don't have to deal with the people in Floaroma anymore?" I offer, but she shakes her head and keeps talking.

"I mean…yeah, there's that but…what's going to be there that I actually want to see? I thought just leaving was going to be a really good idea and that things would be easier back in the town I was born in but...when I left everyone was…I just don't think I'll find anything good there. It's only going to make me feel worse. Maybe we could just stop there for food and keep moving? We don't really need to spend a night there, do we? After all, I mean, there can't really be anything of interest…" her voice fades away and she exhales heavily, gripping her forehead with her tired, dirty hands.

I don't really know what to say to her. I want to tell her that it will be worth it, that there could still be some remnants of her old life there. But I can't say I saw anything I liked in Twinleaf. I guess I'm still glad I went, but it's not as if I actually enjoyed being there. "I don't know…I went back to Twinleaf, which was my hometown, and…and there wasn't anything left of it. My house was a pile of ashes and the dumb little Magikarp in the pond were massive, undead Gyarados. In fact they- well, that's…you don't really need to know about that." She tries to interject, but I keep talking so I don't have to tell her what happened. "I have no idea what you want me to say about Eterna. All I know is that we need food, and I want to find survivors. They may not be nice, and they may not _give_ us food, but at least we'll know we aren't the only ones alive. And who knows maybe…maybe you will find something you like or remember."

She's quiet for a long time. Then suddenly she leans over, grabs my face and presses her alcohol-stained lips to mine.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: CONTROL

For an instant there is silence, then a great wash of emptiness and a sudden burst of confusion and rage.

I push my hands against her shoulders and shove her away from me. "What the hell are you doing?" I don't mean to sound so angry, but I don't make any attempt to apologize. "What are…what were you _thinking_?" Inexplicable fury blazes in my chest, heat pulsing through my veins.

She stammers and her face burns bright red. There's fear and shock in her eyes, and pain written all over her face. "I…just…I just thought…"

"You didn't think! Why would you do that? Why would you just assume that…that…" I shake my head rapidly and look away from her. The entire room has gone silent, and I can feel a powerful tension rising from our Pokémon. I catch Scout in the corner of my eye, her flame quiet and apprehensive. Colin has stopped bouncing Cheryl's Wynaut, and the two sit beside each other now with their eyes locked on my Pokémon.

"I'm sorry…I really didn't think you'd…I'm sorry." Her fingers entangle themselves with a stray thread on her pants. They shake as she hurriedly wraps it around and around each digit. The thread snaps and her hands shudder and clench. "I think I'm just tired, or something." Colin begins to snarl from the other end of the room and she whips around to look at him. His fur stands on end, his back arched. Her Wynaut doesn't move, staring at us worriedly.

I start to yell at her some more, but shut my mouth before I can make things any worse. Her eyes are dry but she's clearly hurt, with her brows drawn in together and her teeth gritted hard. I don't know why I'm so mad at her, why I feel more like hitting her than letting her kiss me. It's not that I don't like her, or even that I don't think she's pretty. She's given me more than anyone has in a long time, but at this instant I wish we'd never met.

Scarlet growls and I look over to see her facing off against Colin. Just a few hours ago she was acting like she had a crush on him. Now she's angry, irrationally hateful of someone who never did anything to harm her. Her body prickles with electricity, and her tail waves back and forth in the air. Hardened muscles ripple beneath her soft, dark fur, flexing with each step toward the Sun Pokémon.

"No…I…" Water has begun to gather in Cheryl's eyes, and I grasp her shoulders hard. "Please don't cry!"

"I'm not crying! I'm just angry, and hungry, and tired, and I'm hung over, Jay! I'm not…" She swallows hard and drags a dirty sleeve over her bright green eyes. "I'm not crying." She shakes my hands off her and glares at me angrily. "You're a jackass."

"Look, Cheryl, I just…I don't understand why you would _do_ that." I want to tell her "I'm sorry." I want to tell her that I _am_ a jackass, and that she has every right to be mad at me. But I don't. Instead, I look away from her and start to stand up.

She grasps my wrist and yanks me back down. I grunt when my ankles turns at an awkward angle, but don't complain. "Help me up, my legs hurt." Rolling my eye, I grab her arm and pull her to her feet. She wavers for a moment, clutching me tightly. She releases me as soon as she regains her balance, and wraps her arms around her small torso. "Why do you think I did it?"

I wait for her to answer herself, not meeting her eyes. When she doesn't, I keep my gaze on the ground and ask "…is that a rhetorical question?"

"I did it because…because I thought I liked you, Jay. Because I thought I was in love with you! Because I… just wasn't able to see how awful of a person you are." I try to interrupt, but she tells me to shut up and points her finger at my chest. "You don't think about other people! You only care about yourself. You act all quiet and strong, but really you're just so...so…" She puts her hands in front of her face and looks at them in furious confusion. "Stupid! You stumble around in the forest without any idea of how any of this is supposed to work. You throw yourself into battles and just hope you'll be fast enough to kill everything. I thought you'd be able to protect me, that you were someone I could look up to and just…just enjoy being around. But you're nothing more than a lonely asshole who can't do anything for himself! You rely on your Pokémon for everything. They make your food, they hold your shit, they keep you alive, Jay! Hell, if I wasn't there when we saw that Gastrodon you'd be long dead by now! You're weak, and I just...I guess I just managed to convince myself you were someone you're not. I see now that what I wanted you to be, what I hoped you were...was someone you are not in any way. I…expected you to save me, but all you did was give me someone to babysit." Her voice drops and she looks away from me again. Taking in a deep breath, she exhales: "You're pathetic, Jay."

"_I'm_ pathetic?" Heat raises to my face and my heart beats rapidly. I can feel adrenaline racing through my body, my chest burning with rage. "You have no idea what I've been through; you think just because I can't always fight for you that I'm weak. Well let me tell you I've seen things that would make you piss your pants. You live in a nice house with freaking hot water, Cheryl! You live in a town that actually has people working to protect it! Do you know where I've been the last four years? In a lab with a greenhouse and three other people. We were the only ones in our entire town, and we sure as hell didn't have anyone to protect us. We fought for ourselves; we never expected anyone to fight for us. You have no idea what it's really like, and I-I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn't be able to handle life out here! I knew you'd-"

"Shut up! How dare you say I have no idea what it's like out here! How dare you say I can't defend myself! How dare you act like some old veteran who knows more about pain, and work, and suffering than anyone else! We've all been through a lot, Jay. Your life isn't any worse than anyone else's. We've all seen things that scare us, or make us cry. And it doesn't matter. I don't hate you because you can't protect me, or be there for me, or care about anyone other than yourself. I hate you because you think no one will ever understand you. You act all high and mighty; you act like your experiences give you the right to treat people however you want. But they don't. It doesn't matter that you've had a hard life. What matters is how you treat other people. And you treat other people like _shit_." A massive crash interrupts her tirade and she spins to face the window. The house shakes and her eyes widen as a blood-covered body flies through the hole where the window should be. Red splatters across the floor, and the feuding Pokémon freeze and look to see where it came from.

The room explodes with noise as dozens of undead Bug-Types fill the air. I scramble to find my crowbar, tearing it from the front of my bag and holding it out in front of me. A massive, rotting Dustox dive-bombs for me, but I move fast enough to drive the end of my weapon into its face. Blood spurts out the other end and one of its decaying wings slides off and drifts to the ground.

I toss the body aside and slam another into the floorboards. Pressing my foot down into its exposed brains, I blink through the mass of living corpses and struggle to distinguish one scream from another. In my panic, Lenny is the only thing on my mind. Scout and the others can take care of themselves, but he's too young to fight them. Even if he's immune to the infection, I don't want him getting hurt or killed from their relentless attacks.

I see a flash of fire and head towards it as fast as I can. Scout lets out a familiar battle cry and a blast of lightning pierces through the throng of airborne undead. Swiping my crowbar through the air, I catch another Dustox and hurl it to the ground. Scarlet's eyes flick up and she stands at attention when she sees me. Scanning the mass, I squint to see something small and pink huddled and shivering in the corner of the room. I order Scarlet to strike down as many as possible, but not to use any large attacks until I gave her a signal. If she shocks the whole room when Dracula, Lenny, or Marley is out they could be in serious pain. I've seen Cheryl handle being electrocuted before, and I think she could handle it if we had no other option.

Lenny cries out when I come near him, his eyes wide and wet with fear. I fish around in my pocket and show him his PokeBall, pressing the button on it twice in preparation for returning him. He yelps as the light bursts outward and consumes his small body, sucking him inside the little sphere. Claws grasp my neck and I grab the rotting Wurmple with my bare hands. I throw it to the ground hard enough that its head breaks open on impact and its green brains coat the floor.

Marley dances through the air, playfully dodging the zombies and making loud, happy "pchoo-" sounds. I call out his name and he blithely swings over to me, hovering by my side with a face full of curiosity and humor. "Return," I say simply, and he vanishes into his PokeBall.

A Dustox with hollow eye sockets and one shriveled antenna rushes for me, and I stab it through its head instinctively. In the midst of the chaos my mind falls back to what Cheryl was saying. I don't want to even consider that she could be right, that I could actually be as weak and pathetic as she insists I am. But my chest is too tight and my head is too confused not to believe her. I've gone these past few months -no, these past few _years_- convinced that I was somehow special because of what I'd been through.

I crush another Wurmple into a tired old wall with paint coming off in large strips. But she's right. She's been through just as much as I have, and if I just assume other people have no idea what the world is really like I'll end up getting myself hurt.

Still, I know she was wrong about my ability to protect myself. Sure, I rely on my team for a lot of things, but that's why we're a team. We work together to keep each other alive. I need them, but they need me too. They've all had the chance to stay on their own, and they've all chosen to join us. I would never force any of them to fight against their will.

I feel an immediate, instinctual aversion to apologizing to her, to admitting she was right and I was wrong. But I have to. I already regret the things I said and the way I treated her; I'm not sure if I could even move on without saying I'm sorry.

Cheryl is more than the little girl I took her for initially. She's impulsive, idealistic, and stubborn as an angry Tauros. But she's also honest and passionate. I can't fault her for being young and inexperienced, but I can value her for being determined and genuine. I have to apologize, I have to make things okay again. If nothing else, I know we'll be travelling together for a very long time. Making her truly hate me now will make that time a living hell.

When the horde begins to thin out I catch sight of Dracula dodging in and out of the fluttering, bleeding bodies. She sees me and I call her back to her PokeBall, her face nodding once before she disappears in a flash of light. I turn to Scarlet on my left and call out for her to attack, laying my weapon down in anticipation. Scout flattens herself to the floor and covers her ears as the Luxio begins to draw electricity from the air. Her body shudders with sparks and she lets loose a powerful and commanding roar. Thunder passes through the swarming bodies, and they drop to the floor in waves. They smack the hard, creaking wood loudly and shudder, their wings and antennae twitching from the shock.

I see Cheryl clearly now. She's directly opposite me on the other side of the room, bending down to grab her bat. Colin stands beside her, shaking off the effects of the spark and scanning over the pile of corpses with dark, calculating eyes. Her Chansey and Wynaut are nowhere to be seen, probably taking cover in their PokeBalls. A stale, cold wind blows stray hairs across Cheryl's sweat-covered face. She looks very old now, and suddenly very tired. My own body aches as the adrenaline fades, the effects of the hangover and the sudden burst of heavy movement beginning to take its toll. We breathe heavily, chests heaving and lungs struggling to suck in tainted air.

I open my mouth to apologize, but my stomach lurches and a great tightness in my chest makes me stop. The desire has overwhelmed the need. I know I have to make things right again, but my pride coddles me and tells me now is not the time. I have to apologize, but I won't.

She watches me carefully, then turns to grab her bag and leaves the gore-stained room behind. I don't follow her until she calls back for me, and by then I'm too lost in my own thoughts to notice the reluctance in her voice.


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: TUMBLING CLOUDS

Scout and Scarlet take up the back of our group, moving carefully with their eyes focused on the sky. They know by now to expect danger to come from above; flying zombies are always faster and more dangerous than walking or running ones. Scarlet's pelt prickles with nervous electricity, her ears twitching in anticipation of danger. Brown leaves crunch under her careful paw steps, the air filled with the crackle of their breaking shapes and the snaps of her sizzling fur. She holds her tail high and straight, the end swaying slightly in the cold wind.

The city around us has been devoured by age and ruin. The buildings are covered in chipped paint and topped by collapsing roofs. Less hardy structures crumbled, their beams and walls having long succumbed to the power of decay and disrepair. There are massive potholes dotting the pavement, stretched yearly by aching ice during the harsh Sinnoh winter. Any shadow of life is gone; there are no sounds but ours and the wind, or occasionally the moan of an empty home. The air smells crisp and empty. With each breath I can taste the sleeping forest, reaching exhaustedly into the city with graying vines and rusty shrubs.

Simple and utilitarian, the dark gray road ahead of us splits into a decrepit old neighborhood to the right and an equally battered city square straight ahead. Silent storefronts wave signs at us that cling to their wooden posts with tireless determination. Murky windows reflect the cool white sky with its tumbling dark clouds, as if they've been carefully painted by an impressionist testing out his new grayscales.

Colin stops where the road divides and turns half-way around. His tail sweeps through the air, curling towards him and stretching back out several times. Cheryl gestures for him to turn right into the neighborhood, and he scampers ahead unquestioningly. A freezing gust howls through the clustered buildings, and I shove my hands inside my armpits for warmth. My eyes sting from the cold, the rest of my face covered by Dawn's thick, bloodstained scarf. I can taste its mustiness against my lips, and the smell of mysterious gore clings to my nose. Hair that desperately needs to be cut hangs down and bothers my eyelashes every time I blink, but I'm too cold to hide it away inside my hat.

Marley hovers beside me; his presence equal parts comforting and unsettling. A low, strange noise escapes from his spherical form every once in a while, drifting on the wind and somehow reaching my well-covered ears. Dracula circles above us, though I won't leave her there for long. I'm not concerned about a possible swarm so much as I don't want her to freeze. She has fur, but it's very thin and I doubt it can give her much protection from this bitingly cold air.

This kind of weather is not unusual for early December in Western Sinnoh. I figure we'll see some snow soon, if the clouds are any indication. I hope Scout will be enough to keep me warm, but I'm not so sure. Even if we pile all of our supplies on top of us (which would be terribly stupid for a vast number of reasons) I'm certain we'll still freeze at night. I really don't want to die of hypothermia, so we'll need to come up with a good solution fast.

Cheryl stops immediately in front of me and I nearly slam into her, breaking my train of thought. She doesn't seem to notice, her attention apparently too focused on the crumbling house in front of her to worry about me not watching where I'm walking.

I step to her side and follow her gaze. A two-story home stands before us, its paint chipped and worn off. The door is closed tightly, the windows long shattered. It doesn't look very different from any other house we've seen, yet Cheryl cannot take her eyes off it. She sucks in a deep breath and clenches her fists, squinting in the cold. When she speaks, her voice is muffled slightly by her dark green scarf.

"Is this what it was like when you went back to Twinleaf?" I take a careful look at her face, at the deep scars reaching toward her right eye and the dirt coating her skin. Her eyebrows droop below the line of stray hairs across her forehead, and her irises look dark and large.

"I'm not sure what you mean." I admit, and irritation spreads across her face for a second before relaxing back into her cold, forlorn stare.

"Like," she puts her hands by her face and looks into her palms, her voice growing a bit louder. "Like there's…just nothing. Like you've come home to a place you've never been before. And you don't know why but you feel like this place is so alien but you know it used to be the most important thing ever. Like you don't belong here anymore."

The images of Twinleaf Town flutter into my mind's eye. The decaying grasses. The piles of useless scrap that used to be my home. The pieces of my bedroom scattered atop a mountain of ruin. I felt like I could remember everything I ever did there, sitting inside the ruins of my childhood home. But at the same time I knew it was not where I grew up. It was a ghost of what it once was, no, worse than that; it was a dream. Sitting there, with my knees pulled up to my chest and my memories flowing back in full force, I came to see that the place I knew could no longer exist in this world. It just didn't fit.

Televisions, refrigerators, radios, heaters, warm blankets, warm beds…they have no place here. Nothing of the world before the outbreak should still exist in the world after it. Every piece of Twinleaf I came to cherish never was, and never will be again.

"Yes…yes, this is what it felt like." Her eyes flick up to me, then back to the house. She takes a deep breath and takes a couple steps toward the door, her feet crunching the thick layer of leaves covering her front lawn. I reach out and grasp her hand, just hard enough to get her attention. She whips around and turns a cold, determined pair of bright green eyes on me. I swallow hard. "Are you sure you want to go in there? It won't be anything like what you remember, and if you get hurt I don't know how much of a help I can be to you. You said earlier you didn't know why you wanted to come to Eterna, and if you want to just…skip this whole place and move on I will completely understand. If you can't handle what's inside, I…" I pause, not sure how to say what I want to say. "I don't want you to freak out about it."

She starts to get angry, yanking her hand out of my grasp and holding it up like she's going to hit me. But the rage quickly fades from her face and she lets her arm drop limply to her side. "I know. I have to be able to handle it. And…I want to go in. I'll never stop wondering what I missed if I don't go inside now. Just…stay with me, okay?" I nod quietly, and she turns back toward the door.

She grasps the doorknob and takes a deep breath before slowly turning it. It screeches loudly and she flinches, but doesn't move away from it. The door cries out as she pulls it open, the bottom of it scraping along the tired concrete. Colin pads over to her side and looks up at his trainer. She puts her finger against her lips and gestures for him to go inside. He vanishes into the darkness, and she follows close behind. I return Dracula and Marley to their PokeBalls and call Scout and Scarlet to the front.

Cheryl's bat gleams in the pale gray light that pours in from holes where the windows used to be. Scout's flame further banishes the darkness, waving and flickering in the cold. Our footsteps are loud against the floor, and creaks echo throughout the foyer. Cheryl walks slowly, her hand lightly skimming over a dusty counter to her left. It leaves behind a long trail of clean, reddish-brown wood. She stops every couple of meters to examine some old artifact, usually something broken or covered in holes.

An old plate catches her eye, and she looks over it closely before setting it back down. I know she isn't paying very close attention for enemies, so I gesture for Scarlet to move in front of her and keep watch. The Luxio's thin body slides past Cheryl's dark legs, little pieces of light sparkling in the dark. Her eyes gleam, but even she knows this is no time for playing around. She doesn't try to bother Colin as much as she usually does, as it's obvious he's focused on the old house as well.

Part of me is jealous. The most I got when I went home was a pile of rubble that barely resembled the place where I spent most of my childhood. Cheryl's house is mostly intact, and in fact appears to be one of the sturdier structures on the street. She calls me pathetic, but compared to me she's had it easy.

Holy shit. A deep, terrible nausea builds in my stomach. How could I even think something like that? She's put up with me for so long, and I know the pain she's seen, and yet I can still honestly and wholeheartedly believe I've been worse off than her. She said I treated other people like shit, and maybe this is why. No, not maybe. This _is_ why. I can't keep acting like everything I've done is so much more monumental and horrifying than what everyone else has done. It's only going to make her hate me more. As much as I tell myself I don't care, as well as I can convince myself she's wrong…I know she's right. This is as hard for her as it is for me, and it's taken me way too long to realize that. What _happened_ to her doesn't matter; what matters is how it's affected her.

"Jay?"

"What?" I say, much too loudly. She blinks several times and raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Sorry, I just…I was just thinking about something."

"It's fine…" she shakes her head and takes a deep breath, looking away from me for a second before looking back up. "I was just wondering…did you leave Twinleaf to go on the gym challenge?"

"No, I left because it was a burnt pile of-"

"No! Not then, before the outbreak. Is that how you got Scout, and your PokeDex, and all those PokeBalls? Because you wanted to take the gym challenge?"

I knit my eyebrows at her skeptically. "Yeah…why?" The gym challenge was really just an excuse for little boys and girls to get a Pokémon. New trainers were told we could defeat all eight gym leaders, but really it was impossible after the third or so. From what Leo and I came to understand, the Gym Leaders were told in advance what skill level their challenger was. If they heard you already had a few badges they'd use strategies and teams only a real prodigy could defeat. So it wasn't really a challenge so much as an excuse to get out of the house and do some traveling.

"I always wanted to take the Gym Challenge. My parents were nervous about me going out on my own, but I was starting to wear them down…" she stops and takes in a deep breath before going on. "Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you and I could do it? Obviously we wouldn't be taking on all the gym leaders and we probably can't even get to all the city-states, but we could try to collect all the badges. It'd give us some sort of tangible reason for doing all this." I start to remind her of my goal in all this, but she interrupts me. "Tangible, Jay. 'Looking for survivors' is not a tangible goal. 'Collecting gym badges' is."

"I don't know, it sounds kind of…impossible."

"Please, Jay?" She suddenly grabs both of my hands and looks into my eye with big, wet, green ones. "It would be really fun. It's something I've always wanted to do, and didn't you? When you were a kid?" It's strange to hear her imply I'm not a kid anymore, but I guess I should really be used to that by now. "Even if we find out it really is impossible, can we at least give it our best shot?"

The look on her face is difficult to say "no" to. It's a look I haven't seen since we left Floaroma, and one I've hoped I could see again. She's hopeful, happy. Even though I know it's probably futile and stupid, I nod slowly and roll my eye. "Yeah, I guess we can try."

She smiles so much I can see it in her eyes, and even though I know it's only for a second, I can't help but feel like this small act has helped me redeem myself to her.


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: STILLNESS

The floor cries out when I shift my weight, crossing my legs beneath the tired wooden table. A thick layer of dust covers the surface, clear spots appearing wherever we've leaned on or touched it. Cheryl holds a small glass of wine between her hands, fingers absentmindedly tracing over a long crack decorating the side. She stares into the cool red liquid with far-away eyes, her face solemn and stoic.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I took the wine out again because I thought it might cheer her up, but she hasn't had a drink yet and doesn't look like she's planning to. I warned her about feeling like this, told her I couldn't help her if she got hurt. It didn't matter though, as she knew what she wanted and was going to get it regardless of what I told her.

She sits back a bit but still doesn't look up at me. A shuddering sigh escapes her lips and she nods a few times. "Yeah. I'll be okay; I just need some time to take all this in. It's…well it's hard. You know that already, I guess, but it is. I feel really drained, like I haven't slept in weeks."

"That's about how it feels." I exhale loudly and push her drink towards her. She shakes her head and I give it another little push. "You liked it earlier. And it's not like you're going to get hung over again after one glass."

She's quiet for a moment before suddenly scooting back in her chair and standing up, putting both hands down hard on the table. "No thank you," her voice is soft and distant, yet surprisingly harsh for something so faint. "Maybe in a bit, but right now I just…would you mind if I went off on my own?" I begin to object and she hurriedly speaks over me. "It's not like I'll get lost in my own house, and Colin will be with me so you know I'll be safe."

"I'm not so sure. Splitting up is pretty much the worst thing you can do in a situation like this. I mean, if this was a horror movie the killer would be waiting somewhere in this house for you…to…" I stop talking when she finally looks at me, her eyes cold and humorless.

"Don't be stupid." She walks out into the main hallway and motions for Colin to follow her. He stands quickly and scampers to her side, wide blue eyes focused purely on his trainer. I press my hands into my face and lean my elbows on the table, feeling the taught, scarred skin beneath my eye patch. Sighing, I wait until I'm sure they've gone and then run my hands through my greasy hair, looking at Scout and Scarlet across the room.

Scarlet is curled up on the dirty floor with one eye open and her tail sweeping back and forth. She looks bored, completely indifferent to whatever emotional troubles the rest of us are having. She no longer tries to play with Cheryl or any of her Pokémon, choosing instead to isolate herself. Though she was obsessed with him initially, it's obvious now that she's lost interest in Colin and has no intention of pursuing him further. I can't help but wonder if he did something to make her feel like this, but even though I'm her trainer I know very little about how the Luxio works. She's a strange little thing, acting spoiled when she hardly gets enough food to live on and blindly following my orders despite clearly disagreeing with them. I want to understand her, but doing so will require the sort of time and effort I'm unfortunately running low on.

I call her over and she rises, yawning extravagantly while stretching her raggedly muscled body. Her paw steps leave behind tiny prints in the dusty floor while she pads over to me. There's certain reluctance in her gait, but I assume it has to do with fatigue and refuse to think of it further.

"We're going to follow her." I tell my team simply, and neither of them seems surprised. Scout walks over to the hallway and yawns, crossing her arms. Her tail curls around so that it nearly touches the floor, and she leans her back against the wall. She looks so human like this that for a second I just look at her and try not to laugh. "Alright, I know we're tired. This house is creepy as hell, but I bet we'll be sleeping here tonight. It's probably like…well, it can't be earlier than maybe three or four or five, so just a few more hours and we'll go to bed." They stare at me and I exhale out of my nose loudly. "Sorry, I just don't feel like digging my PokeDex out of my backpack right this second."

Scarlet smirks slightly and pads to the doorway. I sigh heavily and stand up, stretching my arms high above my head and rolling my crowbar around in my hand. Cheryl will probably be mad at me for going after her, but I'm used to it by now and I'd rather her be safe and angry than endangered and lost in her own world. She's hardly paid any attention to anything today, so if there are any surprises waiting in this creepy little house she won't be ready for them.

The floor protests loudly as we make our way down the hall and in through the door she vanished into. I swing it open and squint into the darkness below, the steps eventually disappearing. I can hear shuffling downstairs, and what almost sounds like a mewling noise. I start to take out my flashlight, then remember she doesn't want me here and any light I make she'll notice immediately. If I go down without anything I will definitely trip and fall, but if I turn on the flashlight or even bring Scout she'll see us coming down after her and get angry.

A pool of light appears at the bottom, and I hear Cheryl gasp loudly. Without thinking, I bolt downstairs. My depth perception fails me and I slip a few times, barely managing to catch myself on the rusted old railing. Scout and Scarlet hurry down after me, their paw steps much quieter than my loud thuds and tumbles down the stairs. I reach the bottom and run toward the light, calling out Cheryl's name before I can see her. "Are you okay? I thought I heard a noise."

Her figure comes into view, silhouetted in the blackness against a bright yellow light. Her flashlight hangs on a thick string from a hook in the ceiling, swinging back and forth. She's kneeling on the ground with her hands wrapped around something I can't see. Panic rises in my chest, the fear of seeing her physically hurt surprisingly powerful. "Cheryl?"

She turns to face me, the shaking light obscuring her features. She speaks in a quiet and gentle tone, trying to keep something from squirming out of her arms. "That noise was probably you falling down the stairs. I didn't know you were so uncoordinated."

"It's not that I'm uncoordinated. If you've forgotten I'm- wait, what's going on down here? You aren't hurt are you?" She shakes her head and slowly stands. I can see Colin now, waiting patiently on the edge of the bright halo of light.

"No, I…found someone. Come closer." I walk over to her so that I can see whatever it is she's holding. With a sudden, wide smile she straightens her arms and puts something small and round in my face. It shivers and shakes, its little eyes filled with tears. "Isn't she adorable?" Cheryl holds the little thing close again, rocking the creature back and forth in her arms. "She's a Togepi. Her mother must be somewhere close by." I widen my eye at the thought of getting between a mother and her child, but Cheryl must see this because she quickly covers for herself. "She won't be angry or anything. Togetic are known for being really nice to people. They're super friendly and very rarely aggressive. If anything I think-" A pained cry erupts from the shadows, and she starts with a sharp intake of breath.

I squint and struggle to see what made the sound. Scout glances back at me and her tail suddenly explodes into a great flame. Colin is up and snarling, his ears pulled back against his head. "I knew this place was creepy."

"What are we going to do?" Cheryl asks, and I raise my eyebrow at her.

"What we do every single time we hear a bump in the dark. Check it out and get in way over our heads." She stares at me for a moment before nodding slowly and turning to face the shadows.

"I guess that's pretty accurate." She bends down and plucks her bat from the ground, struggling with the weight of the Togepi concentrated in one arm.

"Give her here." I hold out my hands and she gives me a look of incredible shock.

"Absolutely not."

Rolling my eye, I drop my arms and reach for a PokeBall. "Then just use this for now. You can release her later, but she'll probably be safer in here."

She starts to take it, then suddenly digs her hand into her pocket and produces a PokeBall of her own. She tosses it into the air and her Chansey appears in a burst of light. "Daisy, I need you to take care of this little Togepi." The Chansey is confused for a moment, but brightens up when she sees the little baby Pokémon. She reaches for her and Cheryl carefully places the baby beside the egg in Daisy's pouch. "There, that way we don't need to deal with clumsy little things like releasing." The Togepi whimpers and I give it a sympathetic glance. I really don't think it wants anything to do with us, and now we've probably scared it half to death.

"Sure. Let's just figure out what's going on and get out of here." Cheryl plucks her bat from the ground and tosses it from one hand to the other. I lower my voice and take a few steps forward, staring into the blackness beyond Scout's tail. "Do you know if there's another room back there or something?"

"Yeah, that's where our whole heating system was based…I think we had gas back there." She sniffs loudly and shakes her head. "I don't smell anything though…maybe we didn't actually use gas."

"Whatever. We'll just have to go over there and see." Scarlet snarls a bit and stops dead in her tracks, lips pulled back and exposing her yellowed teeth. Scout and Colin stop as well, glaring in the direction of the strange noise. I ask them what's wrong and they don't reply. Scout throws out her arm to stop me when I move forward. "What is it, Scout?" She blinks hard and swings her tail back and forth. There's something ahead she doesn't want us to see. I don't know what she could possibly be sensing that she doesn't think we can handle, but her behavior is making me nervous enough to consider turning back.

Listening hard, I realize there's no sound coming from the darkness. We heard that one noise earlier, but since then there's been nothing. Cheryl gives me a worried glance and I take a deep breath. My eye has had time to adjust to the low light, but I can still see only the outline of a door in the darkness.

I take a small step forward, then another. Cheryl and I approach the door tentatively, with our Pokémon reluctantly following behind. As I reach for the knob, she grasps my opposite wrist and holds on tightly. I clench my fingers around my crowbar and swallow hard. The cold metal of the knob stings my stiff hands. "Wait," she hisses suddenly. I pull back from the door and look into her darkened face. "I want to do it."

One hands still wrapped around my wrist, she puts her bat beneath her arm and turns the knob slowly. Scarlet's low, rumbling growl fills the air, and my heart races in anticipation. Cheryl's holding on to me so hard now that it hurts, but I don't care. I want to know she's there. I want to have her by my side if we're facing something completely unknown.

She pulls the door open and peers inside, shaking now as she leans toward the darkness. Something touches my hip and I jump, making Cheryl startle too. Scout looks up at me, her face pained and her body shaking. I take the flashlight she hands me and bend down to look her in the eyes. There's a small whimper escaping her mouth, and I press my hand against her warm, wet fur. I point the flashlight toward Scarlet and Colin to see that they're just as sickly. "Cheryl," I whisper, still focusing on Scout. "Whatever is coming out of that door is really bad for them."

She doesn't move, staring blankly into the dark. I say her name again and she doesn't respond. I grab her by the shoulder and shake her a bit, her head bobbing back and forth. She mumbles something and I repeat what I said earlier. She nods and reaches into her pocket. She orders Colin to return and he vanishes in a burst of light. I do the same for Scarlet and tell Scout to wait upstairs with our things. "You can let Dracula out if you want, so you won't be alone." I place the Crobat's PokeBall in Scout's outstretched paw and she looks up at me with a nervous, upset gaze. "We'll be fine. Just go get safe somewhere."

She waits a moment longer before running out of the basement and up the stairs. I take a deep breath and turn back toward the dark doorway. The flashlight creates a small pool of clarity on the far end of the room, showing us a worn series of pipes and dusty cobwebs. Cheryl's entire body shivers as we walk forward, and I try to keep myself from doing the same. As we walk deeper and deeper into the pitch-black room, a strange scent drifts to my nose. I can't identify it, can't compare it to anything else. "Jay, what is that?" Cheryl winces and tightens her grip on my wrist. "It's…I have no idea…"

My heart leaps in my chest when a tiny whimper breaks the silence. There's a terrible dryness in my mouth, and I feel an intense need to turn around and run as far away from this place as I can. But at the same time the very prospect of admitting defeat is too much to bear. I can't let this control me.

Cheryl pulls me toward the sound and I point my flashlight to where I thought it came from. At first we don't see anything, but after a second of staring I catch something shift behind a pile of boxes. The light shakes as my whole body begins to shiver with fear. Cheryl walks in front of me with her bat held out before her.

We slowly walk around the boxes, separated now so we're prepared to fight. But we don't see an enemy waiting for us on the other side. A tiny, pained squeak bursts from the wrinkled mouth of a small, decrepit Togetic. Its wings are featherless stubs, and its dull eyes are sunken deep into its skull. It doesn't seem to notice us or shy away from our light. Its breathing is quiet but with each desperate gasp its ribs poke through from beneath its loose skin. Cheryl kneels down beside it and reaches out to brush some of the sweat from its face. She recoils when she realizes it might not do the little creature any good. She whispers my name and I sit next to her. "Is there anything we can do for it?"

All I can possibly think to do is put it out of its misery, but I doubt that's what she means. There's no visible injury and I don't see any blood. I have painkillers for Pokémon, but they're only made for specific egg groups. I wouldn't want to give it anything that would put it in any more pain. "No, I don't think so."

She shakes her head slowly and reaches for it again. It doesn't react.

We kneel there for a long time. There's a faint noise coming from the room outside of this one, like a giggling child. But it sounds so alien in here I have to assume it isn't real. As the Togetic's breathing slows, Cheryl leans into me and I wrap my arm around her side. I feel something wet on my shoulder after the little Pokémon falls silent. Cheryl breaks away from me and stands up, digging an old, dusty blanket out of a box. She drapes it over the body and steps away, her face glistening with tears.

I can't sleep alone. The cold is too much, even with Scout by my side. The wind howls and the tired old window shakes. I'm shivering violently, sniffling and struggling to keep my teeth from chattering too loudly. Every warm thing I could find is piled on top of me, but it doesn't seem to be helping much.

Cheryl lies on the other side of the room, the little Togepi wrapped tightly in her arms. She decided to name it Elizabeth, but never gave a reason why. Her Wynaut is with her too, curled into a little ball by her thighs.

I turn over again and try forcing my body to stop shivering. After a few more freezing moments I shake Scout awake and stand up on wobbly legs. We carry our things across the room and make a bed much closer to Cheryl and her team. She gives me a pointed look at first, but her face softens and she turns back so she isn't facing me. I try to fall asleep with my back to her, but even with the combined body heat I'm still not warm enough.

She rolls over and carries her Pokémon with her. Elizabeth and Wynaut are sound asleep, and Cheryl looks like she's almost there. I reach out and gently pull her closer to me. Her eyes flicker open and for a moment she looks angry. Then she lays her freezing hand on my upper arm and moves so that our knees are touching beneath the blankets. I place my hand on her back and feel the comforting warmth spread between us.

She pushes her head against my chest and I hold her lightly, finally feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me.


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: RUSTED PETALS

Cold creeps up my legs and sets every hair on my body standing straight up. I wince and shiver, gritting my teeth and trying to ignore it. My mind is filled with a sleepy haze, and for a second I wonder where I am. Cheryl curls into a tight ball and I pull her closer to me, burying my face in her freezing hair. Something squeals loudly between us and I feel Cheryl shift slightly. Not wanting to give up on the warmth, I tighten my hold on her and press my hand against her back.

"Ow! What the hell, Jay?" She mumbles as she pushes away from me. I make an incoherent grumbling noise under my breath and wrinkle my eyebrow. The warmth that abandons me when our bodies separate leaves behind a shock of cold. My eyelid flutters open and I take a deep breath half-way between a yawn and a shiver.

She's sitting up now with her arms wrapped tightly around her small torso. Elizabeth and Wynaut huddle together by her knees, shaking and shivering. Steeling herself long enough to get control of her hand, Cheryl digs into her pocket and lets their PokeBalls spill out onto the floor. With bright-red fingertips she presses down on the buttons to expand the balls, and in a flash the two Baby Pokémon vanish inside.

Her legs shake from tiredness as she stands. The sleeping mat creases where she puts her weight on it, the thin blanket sliding slightly. She keeps her balance and crosses the room, disappearing from my sight. Her footsteps reverberate in the otherwise complete silence, accompanied by the typical creaks and moans of exhausted floorboards.

Burrowing under the blanket and scooting closer to Scout, I close my eye and struggle to find sleep again. There is a constant weariness lying at the edges of my mind, and I reach out for it and drag it over me. But the chills are too strong, and no matter how badly I want to sleep I can't. Scout's body is warm against my back, but not enough to hold off the cold.

Cheryl gasps suddenly and my eyelid shoots open. I whip around immediately, slamming my hands into the ground and bringing my knees close to my chest. My hand instinctively grabs for my crowbar, but when I don't feel the smooth, familiar metal I decide I'll be fine without it and stand up anyway. With shaking knees I stumble, my body unprepared for such a sudden movement. But I don't fall, and hold myself up, ready for whatever we're about to face.

She stands against the window with her hands pressed to the glass. A wide smile splits her face as she stares out into the white street below us. A thin layer of snow covers every bare branch and decrepit building, giving the ruins of Eterna City a pure and uninterrupted shine. The sky meets the white landscape with a cold, pale gray, leaving a world of empty ice.

"Jay, look! It's so pretty…" My head pounds suddenly from getting up so fast, and for a second black blobs overtake my vision. I shut my eye tightly and press my hand to my forehead, stepping carefully over our pillows and approaching the window.

Scout eases herself to her feet and pads over to us, yawning and stretching her arms high above her head. She blinks slowly at the whiteness outside, completely indifferent to the cold. Her flame gleams brightly in the window, orange flickering in the pale light.

"I guess so. But it's only going to make things more difficult." I stand next to Cheryl and cover my mouth, stifling another yawn. "I didn't bring any other warm clothing."

She narrows her eyes and takes her hands off the glass. A shiver passes through her and she shoves her fingers into her armpits. "Me neither…do you think we'll be okay?"

I bite my lip and exhale loudly. It's a difficult question to answer. I underestimated how much colder things would get during the winter, as our fall and summer temperatures have been pretty low the past couple years and it was hard to picture how much worse they'd get. Snow will make things harder as well, seeing as I'm not used to walking around in it and if it's thick enough can really slow us down. I don't mind telling her this, but I don't exactly want to tell her we'll probably die either. She knows that already. "We have to be? We'll just have to keep moving and hope for the best. As long as we can find some more food soon we'll be okay, and the snow should make finding water easier. But obviously it's cold, and the temperature at night can get really, really low. I have no intention of getting frostbite, so we should probably try to find another method of keeping warm…"

I trail off out loud but the train of thought continues on in my head. Even if we take extra blankets from her house we have no way of carrying them. In theory one of our Pokémon could do it, but I have no idea how that much inorganic matter will affect a PokeBall. We never really learned the extant of what a PokeBall could hold, and back in the lab we had so few that we feared testing one could hurt us in the long run. Very few electric appliances remain functional, and again even if we found a space heater and a reliable way to power it, how could we possibly carry it with us?

It might not even make a difference. Four years ago we had one of our worst winters in the history of Sinnoh, and we almost died simply because of the cold. We know what this country is capable of, and there's no way Cheryl and I could stay alive without help if things ever get that bad.

The pain of hindsight stings and it again occurs to me that I make very bad decisions. It'd be easy to obsess over all the dumb things I've done recently, but I know at this point it won't do me any good.

Cheryl sucks in a shuddering breath, her gaze still locked on the world outside. "We need to find other survivors." She turns to me and I nod slowly. "What if there are people who have managed to create working societies? I mean, in all those apocalypse movies there's always some safe haven or something…what if there are people who have food and water and heat? If we're going to be collecting gym badges, we might as well try to find other people as well. Maybe they feel just as isolated as we do. Maybe they'd be happy to see other survivors."

I look out at the snow and lean back on my heels. My breath comes out in white wisps, like little ghosts. "Sure. I mean yeah, that was sort of my plan in the first place. I guess that wasn't really much of a plan at all, but finding survivors sounds like a pretty good idea. If there are other people out there, we should seek them out."

Scout makes a small noise and I turn my head to see her. Her eyes are narrowed to slits and her tail waves back and forth apprehensively. I ask her if something's wrong and she doesn't respond. I ask her again and her eyes slowly open back up. She looks at me with nervousness filling her dark gaze and I repeat my question a third time. She opens her mouth, then closes it and shakes her head. Cheryl watches us silently, leaning on the wall beside her.

"I can tell something's wrong, Scout. Spit it out." She shakes her head more vigorously this time and holds out her hands as if to say it was nothing. Her sudden quietness is bothering me, but if she can't tell me it must not be vitally important. I really hope she feels alright, because if she gets sick or hurt I'll worry about her to no end. "You sure?" She nods and flicks her tail up and down toward our stuff.

Cheryl clears her throat and stands up straight. "We should probably pack. I know we're not in top form, but I really think we should get moving. Today we can check out the gym and the rest of town, maybe we missed someone. I really hope we find other survivors soon..."

"I never said we couldn't take care of ourselves. We have enough food and enough water, and obviously we're okay with the cold for now if we survived last night. It's just a matter of long-term things…" She nods quietly and doesn't reply, refocusing her attention on folding our mats and blankets back into our bags.

The gym doors are long gone, leaving behind nothing more than a gaping hole in the side of the building. The pound of Dracula's wings fills the air and she swoops inside, keeping close to the floor. Shockingly lush green covers the ground, crunching loudly beneath our feet. Scarlet paws at the grass and sniffs it with a very confused expression on her face.

"It's fake," Cheryl explains, stepping ahead of me and holding her bat out in front of her. "Gardenia used artificial turf because, believe it or not, this building actually used to have a roof." Scarlet looks up into the cold gray sky and her ears flick in interest. "The flowers and everything were real, but if I remember right they made some strange architectural choices…"

A massive machine sticks out of the floor in the middle of the gym. Rust claws at its sides and the paint is completely gone, leaving behind a dark metal husk of gears and wires. It has two large platforms attached to it, one pointed toward us and the other not visible from this side. Dracula flies to the machine and sits in the middle of it, pulling her wings in around herself and waiting quietly.

The machine is somehow held up out of a dark abyss below. Remnants of a floor surround the platforms, but it's clearly too weak to hold any weight and filled with holes. There's no other way to reach the far end of the gym, with the massive drop cutting us off completely from the opposite side. I consider leaving my things at the entrance so we have better balance on the platforms, but if something happens I need to have my first aid kit with me. So I strap my backpack over my chest as many times as I can and watch Cheryl walk out onto the first platform.

She totters on the rusted steel, holding out her arms and gingerly putting one foot in front of the other. A raised line makes the side of the platform slope down into the depths below, so the only dependable footing is right in the center. She doesn't looks at me as she progresses, her eyes focused on crossing to the middle of the machine.

She makes a short final jump and the center of the mechanism moans. She collapses to her knees as the platforms shudder from her sudden weight. But the shaking ends quickly, and she manages to stand slowly with righted balance. She turns to me and grins. "That wasn't so hard!"

I look down at the uneven metal nervously. I can hardly tell which part of the platform is actually raised unless I shake my head back and forth a bit, and even then it's not entirely clear. It bends down toward the darkness below when I step out onto it, making my heart race and my vision blur with fear. "Uh, I really don't think I can do this," I yell to her with a shaking voice.

She rolls her eyes and puts her fists against her hips. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you're afraid of heights, too!"

"It's not that, I just- I can barely tell where I'm supposed to stand. The raised part looks exactly the same as the sloped part!" I try tilting my head back and forth to compensate for the lack of vision, but it hardly works. "I can't cross it; you'll have to get the badge on your own."

"Ugh, seriously?" Her voice sounds so incredibly immature and shallow when she says that I can't help but grin. Colin starts to approach her but she tells him to stay back. "Dracula and I can handle it, right girl?" The Crobat nods and smiles, taking off and hovering next to the girl. Cheryl mumbles something and starts to head for the very end of the gym. I assume she knows where she's going; otherwise she'd be asking a lot more questions.

The machine whines as she puts her weight on the far platform. She gasps and I stand on my toes to see what's going on. She starts to lose her balance but Dracula catches her and brings her back to her feet. Her "thank you" echoes against the decaying walls, and the shuddering of the platform beneath her weight fills the air. With one last hop, she makes it to the other side and the machine shakes in response. I can't see her very well from here, but among several rotted wooden stakes her shadowed form bends down and rummages around in something.

For a few seconds the sound of foraging overrides everything else. Then her cracking voice rings out across the gym, and she whips around triumphantly. She's holding something in her hand, something that gleams brightly in the light. "You won't believe what's over here, Jay! There's some sort of first aid kit, and a couple gallons of water! I wouldn't be surprised if there's food hidden somewhere around here too!"

"That's great!" I call back, waving to her from across the room. "Is that the badge?"

"You bet it is! This is so great Jay!" She takes the badge into both her hands and examines it closely. Her chest swells with pride and a smile splits across her face. She says something to Dracula, who nods and returns the happy grin.

There's a sudden, loud gasp behind me, and I spin around to see several warmly-dressed trainers and their Pokémon staring at us in shock. One of them, a red-headed girl with an angry Raichu standing beside her, steps forward with a face full of fury. "What the hell is this?" She hisses, and before I can explain Scarlet has leapt at her Raichu with a massive burst of electricity. I try to call her back, but she won't do it. Her claws sink deep into the Mouse Pokémon's hide, but she roars violently as his teeth cut into her flesh. There's a loud surge of thunder and she flies off him, landing hard on the ground at my feet.

"Sc-Scarlet?" I start, but I stop when I see what the Raichu's trainer has in her hand.

The gun shines in the pale light, her fingers poised to pull the trigger on us.


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: CLOSED CIRCLE

"We-we're not doing anything wrong." I stammer, kneeling down to check on Scarlet. The red-headed girl narrows her eyes and steps forward, her Raichu creeping close behind. Scout tenses at my side but stays still, watching carefully for any sudden threats. Colin stays just as silent, his tail held heavily to the artificial grass.

"You're stealing. Last I checked stealing was wrong." Scarlet's eyes flick toward the Raichu and she snarls, lifting her head to see him. Sparks shoot up her neck and she winces, shutting her eyes tightly. I pull her close to me, placing her warm head in my lap.

"We didn't know it was your stuff. It's not like you left anyone here to protect it all." The uneven turf beneath my legs is starting to sting, the little black beads cutting into my cold skin. I reach for Scarlet's PokeBall and the girl cocks her gun, pointing it at my chest.

"Don't move. Can I assume that girl over there is with you?" I nod and she looks over at Cheryl, keeping her gun aimed at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She calls out, her voice icy and harsh.

I turn slightly to look at her and a loud shot explodes in the gym. Turf blasts into my face hard and fast enough to cut my skin. I flinch and bury my head in Scarlet's fur, my ears ringing as the bang echoes against the walls. Scarlet's body spasms and she whimpers. I hold her tightly and look up at the red-head, my blood suddenly racing with a surge of fury.

Her gun is pointed at the floor and there's a small crater mere centimeters from Scarlet's paws. I can feel thick, warm blood on my partner's pelt. I prod her belly as gently as I can, feeling for any signs of serious injury. There are several patches of fur missing from where the turf sliced her, but other than that she seems physically fine.

Anger rises in my chest, hatred of the girl holding my life in her hands. The pain of helplessness shoots through me and I grit my teeth together to keep from saying anything that might get me or my team mates killed. "I told you not to move." She hisses from between barely-moving lips. "I meant it."

She steps away from me but her Raichu stays behind. It stares at us with a strange happiness in its eyes, its scarred ears twitching with excitement. Scarlet glares at it angrily but does nothing, her pride too wounded to let her risk any more. I give her paw a squeeze and try to be reassuring, to tell her everything will be okay without actually having to say it. But she's too hurt; too insulted from losing that she doesn't care. She looks away from me pointedly, her eyes shivering with sparks.

"Well?" The girl has focused herself on Cheryl again. "Answer me, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I can't see her, but I imagine exactly how Cheryl will react. She'll get angry, and she'll say something terribly stupid, and she'll-

"We were just- I mean- we just wanted the gym badge from here. And we saw some food so we decided to take it…" Her voice vanishes into the space between us, and I close my eye as if it'll actually help stop this madness.

One of the other people in the girl's group, a dark-skinned woman with thick braided hair, steps past us and speaks to the redhead in a voice so low I can barely hear it. "Erin, don't you think you're going a little overboard? I really don't think they've-"

"You are in no position to question what I'm doing. Do you have any idea how long it took to get all that food and water? No, because you've had it easy the past six months while the rest of us have been barely scraping by." Her voice gets even lower, and I strain my ears to hear her. "You forget too easily what a bunch of thieves did to you. If you were smart you'd have learned your lesson. Now shut up and wait with the others, I know what I'm doing."

The other woman falls silent and whispers something inaudible before walking back to where the other members of her group wait awkwardly at the entrance. I hold Scarlet's tired little body tightly and breathe deeply, trying to hold back my urge to stand up and fight her. Even if I knew for sure her team mates wouldn't protect her, she could still shoot me dead before I could get close enough to even pull her hair.

I hear the rusted mechanism creak loudly and, unable to stop myself, I whip around to see what's going on. Cheryl has stepped out onto the first platform with Dracula hovering beside her. She holds her arms out to the side, teetering back and forth. The red-head is no longer interested in me; her attention is instead focused on Cheryl's shaking form. Colin stands suddenly and his tail stands straight up in the air.

Raichu reacts instantly, sending a massive shockwave through the Espeon's tired old body. He cries out in pain and stands for a few moments before suddenly collapsing. His muscles twitch violently and his eyes are wide and filled with agony. Scarlet pushes against my arms but I keep her held down, my hands clinging tightly to her dirty fur. She snarls and growls, struggling to free herself from me. "Scarlet please, please stop… I don't want to hurt you, Scarlet, please. It'll be okay, just please, stop fighting me Scarlet!" I keep my voice quiet so that only she can hear, and it's enough to calm her down. Her body falls limp in my arms and she closes her eyes tightly in pain. I run my fingers gently through her pelt, ignoring the mild shocks that jolt through my hands.

"C-Colin?" Cheryl's voice reverberates throughout the building. She repeats his name, and I watch in horror as she bolts forward. She slips and cries out in pain, barely catching herself on the slippery metal. Dracula helps pull her back up, and for a moment she just sits there staring back at us, her foot hanging off into the abyss below.

The red-head turns back to us and locks eyes with her Raichu. The electric-type goes quiet and pads toward his trainer with each paw letting off little spurts of lightning into the ground.

Suddenly there's a massive burst of flame, and I cry out as heat floods the air around me. Scout's tail blazes and her eyes gleam with a savage anger. I try to call to her but my voice is too weak. It cracks and my throat stings, tears springing to my eye as the overbearing sensation of uselessness takes over. She holds the Raichu down, her paws covered in brilliant fire. He struggles beneath her, his tail whipping about and barely missing hers as it slices through the air.

She presses a flaming paw against the Raichu's face, and with both of his own paws he can hardly hold her back. He screams and thunder shoots out from beneath Scout's small body, washing through the already-charged air and sending a wave of agony through every muscle. Scout flies backward and slams into the wall, leaving a smoking crater in the decaying concrete. She doesn't get up.

The Raichu stands up slowly, his fur singed but his body overall unharmed. He turns a furious gaze on Scarlet, Colin, and I, charging for us faster than we can dodge him. Something huge and dark slams into him and knocks him down, hovering before us and glaring back at him; her stare filled with rage.

I hear the platforms creak loudly and I tear my eyes off the battle to take in Cheryl's hastened attempt to reach us. She slips again and lands hard, the cold metal beginning to give beneath her. The red-head watches her silently, her gun poised to fire if she makes one wrong move. Cheryl chokes out her Espeon's name and forces herself back up, her face glazed with tears.

The red-head turns back to us, smirking slightly as Dracula faces down the furious Raichu. Cheryl leaps off the platform and tackles the girl to the ground, digging her fingernails into the red-head's face. But there's no way she can win, as Cheryl is maybe half the other girl's weight and much shorter. I place Scarlet gently on the ground and stand up to help her, but before I can take one step I hear the roar of thunder and feel a powerful jolt of pain shoot through me. I fall to the ground, my lungs struggling for air and my vision blurring violently. I try to speak, to call out to Cheryl, Scarlet, anybody; but my mouth is sealed shut, my jaws locked tightly with an incredibly throbbing.

I can barely see the fights breaking out around me. A blur of purple swoops and spins through the air with startling grace, avoiding blast after blast of powerful electric energy. The Raichu runs for the flying-type and slams into her, hard. She screeches and struggles to escape the Mouse Pokémon's grasp, flapping erratically against the electrified air. He pulls her onto her stomach and jumps on her back, making her cry out in anguish.

I can only feel a constant, incredibly pain from my legs. They refuse to support me, and my fingers barely quiver when I tell them too. My back aches terribly, and my chest feels like it's collapsed in on itself. My thoughts are chaotic, completely controlled by sudden urges and the desire to break free from my helplessness.

Raichu wraps its tail around Dracula's left wing and pulls back hard. She screams so loud it nearly drowns out the awful crack that bursts out of her body. One of the red-headed girl's other teammates rushes forward to split them apart, but the dark-skinned girl from earlier grabs his arm and yanks him back. She shakes her head slowly and after a moment of hesitation he nods quietly. They watch in silence, and for the same reason I hate myself I hate them too.

Do something! I want to order them, I want to cry out and make them listen. I can't be this useless; I can't be this unable to do anything for my partners. And these people can't possibly be so selfish. They watch with those worried, inactive eyes, hoping we'll be able to break free on our own. But they don't help us; don't bother to stop their leader from hurting us.

The red-headed girl throws Cheryl off her, and the smaller trainer hits the ground hard. She scrambles away from her assailant, shooting me a desperate glance. The red-head raises her gun to Cheryl's head, then stops herself.

There is an instant where I think she's had enough. Maybe she's proved her point; maybe she'll let us go. For this short moment I see a tiny degree of mercy alight in the girl's eyes.

Then she sweeps her arm out toward her Raichu, and he unleashes an incredible stream of electricity into Cheryl's body. Dracula sinks her teeth into the electric-type, but it's too late. Cheryl falls to her side at an awkward angle, her body twisted uncannily.

Blackness starts to pull at the edges of my vision. I struggle against it; fighting to make my legs work and bring me to Cheryl's limp body. They don't move. They hardly shiver when I tell them to hold me up. Something soft and wet presses to my face and I hold it closer to me, feeling tiny, gentle sparks tickle my cheek.

Unable to hold it off any longer, I let the weight of the numbness envelope me in darkness. The pain begins to ebb as my mind recedes, allowing me to shut off the world around me and finally sleep in peace.


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: BADGES

Shadows dance across the high domed ceiling, flickering in the dull candlelight. Faint and faraway music floats to my ears, the sweeping tones echoing throughout the room. Late afternoon sunlight sets a series of stained-glass windows lining the walls aflame with warm, dying color. Voices carry from where the simplistic altar lies decorated with sharp shades of blue and gray. They speak quickly and quietly, occasionally vanishing altogether when whatever work they're doing becomes too demanding.

I grip the smooth side of the pew with my right hand and use it to roll myself over. The small pillow supporting my aching head slips and I adjust it lazily, shoving it back against the glazed wood. Parts of my body that I rarely think about burn faintly with fading pain; the backs of my knees are stiff and tight, while my upper arms feel heavy and tired. A much more acute sting digs into my lower spine; my eye is pulsating with the effort of staying open. I curl my toes and grit my teeth, grasping the underside of the pew tightly and feeling the electrical surge of pain shoot through my right arm.

A small black book is tucked into a shelf sticking out from the pew in front of me. Thick gold letters on its front announce it as "The Survivor's Testament." I can hardly remember the obligatory lessons I had on it back when I actually went to school, but from what I can recall it's a series of journals based off the accounts of the few individuals that survived "The Great Burning." The original journals only served as inspiration, with the Testament's writers taking whatever liberties they wanted with them.

Officially, the League banned all religious practices from the country. But it was one of their loosest laws, and only when a cult or church became too obtrusive did the League actually enforce it, and even then people were rarely really punished for it.

I have no idea whose church this is. I don't remember being brought inside or ever being told who's taking care of me. I woke up on a cot in a small room with wood-paneled walls for a brief few minutes before passing out again and waking up here. There's no way I can sleep in this much pain, so I must have been drugged or something. 

I should probably be more concerned about that than I am, but all I can feel is a mixture of strong physical pain and a burning anger in my chest. The hot fire of vengeance consumes my brain and body; the desire to seek revenge eating me from the inside out.

Somewhere in my mind is a small voice urging me to move on, to accept that I can't change things and continue pushing forward toward my goals. But without her, my previous goals are childish and idiotic. There is no reason to seek out survivors if all they want to do is hurt my family. I can't keep acting so immature. I can't trust other people because they're just as cruel and selfish as I am. I only do things to benefit myself and my team, and I would never go out of my way to help a stranger. Why the hell would I expect anyone else to act any differently?

My fingers burn as I dig my nails into the hard wood, knuckles white with rage. I'm going to kill her, and nothing is going to stop me. I'm going to make her feel the same pain Cheryl felt tenfold. I'm going to make her beg me to stop, make her get down on her knees and clasp her hands together and pray to whatever bullshit God-

"It's good to see you awake." I bolt upright so suddenly that a burst of pain races up through my back and out to my fingertips. Gasping, I bend down awkwardly and grip my stomach with a trembling hand. The other one clutches strongly to the back of the pew, muscles aching with the effort of holding my weight. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to startle you!" A woman with unnaturally dark red hair steps into the pew, concern bright in her deep brown eyes. She puts a careful hand on my shoulder and slides into a seat beside me. "I go by Jupiter; I'm one of the three High Priests of the Galactic Church. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

She purses her lips and tries to look sympathetic. I stare back at her blankly, my face stiff and my expression cold. "We found you in a snow bank outside of the Gym. A few of our church members decided to carry you and your team mates back here. You seem to have experienced a severe electrical shock, and you'll feel the effects of the nerve and tendon damage for at least the next couple of months. I…don't think it'll be as bad as it is now for very long though, you should be able to move properly within a few days." She looks over at Scarlet, who has curled up by my feet with her head resting on her big, fluffy paws. The electric-type's eyes are opened to slits, shining in the shadows where she lies. "Your Luxio suffered some muscle damage as well, but as an electric-type her body will soon absorb the energy and will be used to help her reach a very powerful level of evolution. Ultimately the shock will only benefit her." She takes her hand off my shoulder and entangles it with her other in her lap, looking down at the Testament in the shelf. "As for your other companions…well your Crobat's wing is broken in three places, but as long as she stays off it and you take great care with her she'll make a full recovery. But that's only if you can manage to keep her stilt tied perfectly to the damaged area. If that doesn't happen, she'll heal but will never be able to fly like she used to.

"There was nothing we could do for the Espeon that was with you. He was too old to handle that level of electrical shock and well…he was dead when we found him." Scarlet's whiskers twitch but she doesn't make any other movements. She's quiet, distant. Her body rises and falls with untroubled breaths. She looks perfectly fine, but I know she's not. "And two of the three Pokeballs the girl had on her short-circuited. There is no way to recover the poor souls trapped inside. Here," She reaches into her pocket and places a dusty Pokeball in my hand. "This was the only one that can still be used. We didn't check to see what was in it, I figured that was something you'd want to experience on your own…now your Monferno will be fine, but only after she evolves. Until then she'll need to be watched as carefully as your Crobat, as she's had significant vertebrae damage that resulted in some loss of function in her arms and tail."

Scout has sat silently the entire time, eyes locked on the altar at the front of the church. There are bandages wrapped tightly around her torso, and a long rod sticking out from underneath them. Her tail twitches slightly, the flame jolting back and forth. Her shaking arms lie in her lap; paws crossed one over the other. Hatred fills her gaze, her teeth sunk deep into her bottom lip to withstand some of the pain.

Jupiter takes a deep breath and falls silent for a while. I already know what she's going to tell me; I knew from the moment I saw Cheryl's twisted body lying unmoving on the freezing concrete. The priest turns to me and takes my limp, cold hands in her own. Her voice is deep and ragged, but filled with gentleness and concern. "I promise you if there was anything we could've done to save her we would've done it. I'm so, so sorry this had to happen to you. I wish that things like this didn't have to happen, but it's all just a part of the Gods great plan for us all." I flick my gaze up to her, my brow furrowed suddenly. Aggravation begins to prickle at my throat and form a ball in my chest, but I manage to hold it there and try to ignore the rising anger. Her voice falls to a whisper, but her expression doesn't change from one of tenderness and acceptance. "Was she your sister?" I shake my head slightly and she gives my hands a squeeze. "Was she your lover?"

"I don't know." I mumble back to her, trying to keep my annoyance from making me snap. "I did love her, but…" I shake my head back and forth quickly, blinking a few times. "I…I just…."

She puts one of her hands on my shoulder again and my heart begins to race. "I understand. No one deserves to go through this alone. Mallory, did you say your name was?"

"Jay."

"Jay Mallory…" She repeats quietly.

"That _is_ my name." I manage to keep myself from calling her something very derogatory, but only barely.

"And what a nice name it is." With every stupid, faux-sympathetic thing she says I want to hit her more and more. "Listen, Mr. Mallor-"

"No, seriously, don't call me that."

"Jay," She keeps going without skipping a beat. "I understand that you have your Pokémon and that the lot of you are very close. But Pokémon act only in relation to their trainers. Interacting with them is nothing like interacting with other humans." I clench my fists beneath her hands, digging my fingernails into my palms. "You don't need to go through all of this alone. Not when there are loving Gods to comfort and protect you. They only want to help you, Jay. Listen to them, speak to them. I can promise that if you decide to stick around her for a little while and let them into your life you won't regret it. In fact, you have absolutely nothing to lose if you say a prayer every now and then."

I can't say anything because I know I'm going to explode. How dare she turn this into some opportunity to drag me into her stupid little cult? My chest is bubbling with anger, my heart pounding violently. I simply nod and she stands up slowly, giving my hands light pats.

"Oh, I almost forgot," She pulls a small, shining metal object from her jacket pocket and holds it out to me. "This is the Forest Badge isn't it? We had to remove…we needed to check…uhm…this fell out of your friend's jacket and we thought you might want it." It's dirty, with rust clawing at its sharp edges. "I get the feeling this was a hard-won badge." She gets tired of holding it out to me and grabs my wrist, pressing it into my palm and closing my fingers over it. She smiles kindly at me and squeezes my fist. "I just want you to remember that you don't need to go through this alone. I'll come back to check on you in a bit, and I might even have some food for you then." She winks and turns away, walking up the aisle and out a side door into the dark hallway beyond.

The badge is warm in my hand. I stare at it with the same blank expression I had on my face the entire conversation, scanning over the copper-colored spots of rust and what remains of the dark green decoration.

Cheryl said she wanted us to collect all of the badges. She only got to see us find one, and for now it and her only surviving Pokémon are all I have left of her. I see now that it's nothing more than a piece of scrap metal, intended only to make a few children happy once in a while. It's not close to anything worth risking your life over.

But I guess it was never the actual badge that mattered to anyone. It was always what the badge was meant to represent. Strategy, hard work, patience, determination…the things every young trainer would need to participate in the League. But this badge means none of that. This is the useless piece of crap that killed the girl I…

I don't even know what she was to me. I don't know what the badge is supposed to represent because I don't know how I felt about her. I told Jupiter I love her, and I think I do…or I did? I close my fist around the badge and lean my head against the back of the pew. My neck aches and I grit my teeth hard. Can I still love someone that I can never see or hear or hold again? Do I have to start thinking of her as someone I "did" love, not someone I "do" love?

I cover my ears with my hands and bend down, drawing my knees to my chest and burying my face in them. My mind is racing so fast I can barely keep track of my thoughts. The badge is burning a hole in my hand, the metal blazing against my flesh.

Unable to contain my anger any longer, I hurl the badge as hard as I can into the wall at my left. My eye stings and I swallow back the tears, urging myself to fight the encroaching weakness and stay strong for my team. Something cool and wet presses to my cheek and I turn slightly. Scarlet presses her face into my arm, rubbing against my jacket and purring quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Scarlet." I whisper, shaking my head and looking into the Luxio's pale yellow eyes. "I'm so sorry…I…failed you. I failed you, and Scout, and Dracula and I…I failed Colin and Cheryl. I'm so stupid. I should've known better than to go in there without checking to see if we were being followed…I should've gone with Cheryl across the gym… I should've…I should've freaking helped you!" She flinches when I yell, my voice echoing against the high walls and domed ceiling. "I just laid there like a fucking coward and watched you all fight for me. And now…now I've gotten half of us killed and the other half really, really hurt. I just…" I can't talk anymore. It's all I can do to keep from breaking down. My nose is running and my eye stings as fresh tears overflow and spill down my face. I press my head into my arms and breathe deeply, struggling to get myself under control.

Scarlet's body heat vanishes beside me, and for a few terrifying moments I think she's finally had enough of me. Then warm breath flits across my face and I look up to see her holding the Forest Badge between her teeth. I watch her quietly as she pads around me and pulls my backpack off the pew and onto the floor. She pulls it open with her teeth and fishes out my old badge case. With deliberate, steady movements she places the case beside me and lays the badge on top of it. Then with powerful, hesitant legs she pulls herself onto the bench and rests her paw on the case.

She purrs softly and leans down, pushing it closer to me with her little pink nose. With a pained, shaking hand I pry the old case open and hand it back to her. She studies the dusty Coal Badge with shimmering eyes, giving me a meaningful glance before looking back down at it.

"Scarlet, it's just…it's pointless now. Without her there's no reason to keep looking for badges." But Scarlet continues to poke at the badges, running her paws over them eagerly.

It's only now that I understand what she's trying to tell me. Losing Colin has been just as hard for her as losing Cheryl has been for me. If Colin and Cheryl wanted us to collect the gym badges as a team, then it only makes sense to honor them by continuing their mission.

I place the Forest Badge carefully beside the Coal Badge in the case and lock my gaze with Scarlet's. "It won't be easy." I say simply, but she doesn't seem to mind. She presses her muzzle against my neck and licks me a few times. "By doing this we're putting everyone at risk. Either of us could very well get killed." But I know she won't object to it no matter what I tell her.

I take the case into my lap and let my legs slide down to the ground. Wiping my tears off on my sleeve, I run my fingers over the badges and feel a powerful surge of resolve race through me.

I'm going to find the other gym badges, all six of them. I'm going to get revenge for Cheryl's death, but I'm also going to honor her every chance I get. I will cross every river, push through every cave until I find all eight badges and she can rest in peace. No matter what challenges I face or where I end up, I'm going to fulfill her dream and preserve her memory.

I will keep her from being forgotten if it's the very last thing I do.


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: CARRY ME

I stand on a hill, looking down into a valley of gravestones stretching toward the horizon. The grass is green, shining in the bright early morning light. Blazing oranges, pinks, and reds spread across the sky, reaching out from the half-hidden sun. It's cold, but there is no breeze here. Nothing moves, not a single flowering weed or blade of grass.

The silence is comforting. I can only hear the balanced sounds of my own breathing and the steady-paced beating of my heart. Shadows stretch out over the dark ground, drawing massive lines in the damp dirt. A great hill of stone walls in the cemetery on its left side, while the right is held in by a river that does not dare break the quiet of this gentle place.

"So what are you going to do now?" She sits beside me with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her voice shatters the fragile silence but isn't any less comforting. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything…"

"No, it's fine." I can't speak in a normal tone; my throat feels like an echo chamber. I sound far away and quiet even to my own ears. "I'm going to find all the badges for you."

She doesn't look at me, her eyes glued to the fiery horizon. The clouds begin to shift, dancing and shaping themselves into strange new forms. The warm sunlight covers them in brilliant shades of orange and pink. "Jay, look! It's so pretty…" Her voice fades into the cool air. I sit down beside her on the hill and follow her gaze, taking in the fantastically colored view.

I want to hold her. I want to take her into my arms and say I'm sorry for everything. She's here again, she's alive. I have to make things right, I have to tell her how I feel. I start by reaching for her hand, but she absentmindedly shifts away at the last moment.

"You could've saved me." My heart plummets and weight rises in my chest. I don't recognize her voice anymore, it's no longer hers. She still doesn't turn to me, doesn't offer me the hopefulness that was once ever-present in her bright green eyes. "You couldn't fight against a little bit of pain, and it's your fault I'm gone now."

"Ch-Cheryl…Cheryl please…" I croak, my throat tightening around my desperate words. "I…I wanted so badly to help you! I love you, please don't-!"

"It's your fault. You failed me, the only person naïve enough to put her life in your hands. Your cowardice got me killed. In fact, if it's your fault I'm dead then you might as well have been the one to kill me." She's blurring now, her body growing fainter and fainter. The valley below us has dimmed, the light slowly vanishing as the sun dulls to a glowing ember. I can't move anymore. I'm locked into place beside her, the sting of her words digging into my chest. "You're a damned liar if you say you love me. You can't say that if you pushed me away."

She suddenly turns to face me, her voice snapping back to how I remembered it. Her eyes shine with hurt and fury, breaking through the blurry world around us. "I thought I was in love with you! But you don't think about other people! You only care about yourself. You can't protect me, or be there for me, or care about _anyone_ other than yourself!"

I struggle to tear through the thick wall in my mouth, to tell her that I promise I can take care of her from now on. But it's too strong. It clamps down on my words before I can even conceive of them. I'm forced to stay silent, unable to justify myself against her anger.

The light is gone. The soft grass beneath us has been replaced by a pile of rubble. The valley is burning, fire leaping from tree to tree and building to building. It spreads across the dying gray ground and licks at the foot of our hill, catching on an old piece of broken furniture. I can't feel the heat as the flames climb toward us.

Her eyes reflect the beauty of the fire, shimmering brightly in the night. I tell my body to move, to save her from the flames but every part of me is paralyzed. I can't even call out to tell her to run. She smiles faintly as the blaze consumes her, and for the second time I'm unable to save the girl I love from dying.

The fire fades away slowly, leaving me alone with her charred body. It's twisted the way it was in the gym, with her hips pointed in a different direction than her back and shoulders. The paralysis finally leaves me, and I slide my arms underneath her limp and broken form. Pieces of old furniture and abandoned artifacts slip down the pile of rubble. I stumble and land hard on my knees, but I still don't feel any pain. She's weightless in my arms.

At the base of the hill something pushes me violently from behind and sends me to the ground. Her body has vanished, leaving my outstretched arms empty in the cold nighttime air. The dead grass prickles my bare hands and stiff face. I turn slowly as my vision refocuses, running my gaze over the strange woman standing before me.

She has blue pupil-less eyes and bright red hair. Her skin looks as though it's barely being held onto her body, though she's too short and small-looking to be very old. She's completely naked as well, with flat breasts and barely-noticeable dips at her waist. Her face is split where her mouth should be, her jaw barely held on to the top part of her skull by exposed tendons and yellow bone.

"Wh-what are you?" My voice shudders and I begin scrambling away from her. She takes a step toward me with a movement so natural I feel bile rise to my throat. A strange whisper escapes her gaping maw, something all at once extremely human and not human at all.

A strange noise slips out of her face, a hissing mumble that lifts up like a question. "What have you done…?" Suddenly a thick sheet of blackness covers everything. I can feel her hands on me but I can't see what they're doing. I swipe blindly through the darkness, panicking the more I feel her on me.

Pressure pushes in on every side, her touch enveloping my body. My heart pounds so fast I feel like it's going to burst. I try to control my breathing, to regulate my panic, but the all-consuming fear is too much. Pain explodes in my head and I lose all outside sensation. My chest burns violently for a second before everything stops, like someone flipped a switch on my brain.

I shake and shiver, bringing the incredible-tasting tea to my lips and taking a quick sip before setting it down beside me on the bed. I pull my blanket tighter around me, but it's still not enough. This room is freezing, even with Scout sitting on the other end of the bed. Her twitching, shuddering tail hangs off the edge, the flame sputtering violently. I scoot back so I can lean against the wall behind me, laying my head on the hard paneled wood. Scout's dark eyes gleam in the dark, locked on me as I shift uncomfortably.

"I-I guess I should've asked you before making the choice with Scarlet to k-keep up with Cheryl's mission." The Monferno's eyebrows knit together and she eases back into the railing at the end of our bed. "Y-you have seniority over her, after all. You're more or l-less the leader." I turn my gaze to the ceiling, too exhausted to focus anywhere else. "And unless you want to leave, our ch-choice will affect you at least a-as much as anyone else."

She brings her shaking tail into her hands but doesn't respond. Though her grip is weak and erratic, the flame stays quiet and controlled. "I'm sorry, Scout…" I murmur, and her eyes flick up to meet mine. Her face is filled with confusion and suspicion. "I just…I screwed up so b-badly."

She shifts suddenly, swinging her tail over the edge of the bed and putting her paws against the fabric. "No, d-don't move, I don't want you to get hurt." She presses on the blanket beneath her and pushes herself to her feet, tottering a bit before regaining her balance. "I mean it, p-please don't…" She winces terribly and pads across the bed. With each step her face floods with pain. "Scout…" I close my eye, expecting her to hit me. Instead, she puts her arms around my neck and pulls me close to her warm, fluffy body.

"I'm so sorry Scout…" She takes my head in her trembling hands and locks her gaze with mine. She closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly and deliberately several times. With a tentative touch on her bandaged back I hold her to me, taking in the dank scent of her dirty fur.

It occurs to me that we've done this before. After Volkner stitched my face back together in Jubilife, I thought Scout had run off. But then she leapt on to the bed and held me in her arms. It was so simple then, when we had only ourselves to worry about. We've lost so much now, but somehow we've still come to the same place.

The difference is that now she's the injured one. I can barely touch her without thinking I'm going to cripple her forever. Sure, I've got some pain too, but whatever I'm experiencing is nothing like what she must feel. A Fighting-Type without the ability to fight...and it's completely my fault. I never want to see her hurt like this again, but how can I keep her safe if she has to stay by my side all the time in such a hostile place?

She breaks away from me to press her paw against her back. She closes her eyes tightly to fight the pain and blinks hard several times. The cold moonlight pouring in from a large window behind her sets her eyes glowing in the night. Our shadows stretch across the dusty wooden floor of our room and up the nearest wall. They look intimidating and fierce.

I bring my tea to my lips again and let my heavy eyelid flutter shut. It's something simple, and if I'd been drinking it as a kid I never would have liked it. But right now it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. They've been giving it to me for the past two days, believing that for some reason it'll speed up my healing process.

On a whim I hold it out to Scout. She looks at it skeptically before scooting close enough to me that I can give her a sip. She laps up a bit of it before wincing and crying out in disgust. She sticks out her tongue and wipes her paws along it to try and get the taste off.

I apologize to her between a toothy grin. She smiles slightly and pushes the mug back towards me. "Not your thing, Scout?" She shakes her head and I can't help but chuckle. "That's alright, I won't make you drink it again." She lays a trembling paw on my leg and I place my hand over it.

"Maybe there is a way to keep you protected…" I say quietly. She looks up at me skeptically, and in response I pull a shining new PokeBall out of my pocket. She hisses immediately and tries to move away, but quickly jolts back from the pain. I grab her paw lightly and hold it, trying to make her trust me with the desperation in my eye. "Scout, please. I want you to recover from this. I hate seeing you in pain… and knowing it's all my fault only makes me want to help you more!" She growls a bit but the aggravation in her expression is gone. "Please, just try it. I promise I will do anything to keep you safe from now on. I'll never let you get hurt like this ever again. You mean far too much to me. Please, Scout. I just want to keep you as safe as possible."

She eyes the PokeBall wearily, biting her lower lip with her stained yellow teeth. She looks back to me and I nod quickly, trying to assure her that everything will be fine. "I've heard of trainers doing this before. It's really not a big deal. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you."

Scout takes a deep, shuddering breath before nodding slowly and gripping my empty hand with her shaking paw. I press down on the button to the PokeBall twice, a great beam of light shooting out. I angle it at Scout and she yelps in surprise before vanishing inside.

I call her back out immediately, my heart racing for fear of her being hurt any further. She shakes her head back and forth a bit, looking mildly surprised but no worse off. The bandages and pole seemed to have traveled inside with her for some reason. None of my other team mates have been able to take items inside their PokeBalls, so I have no idea why that happened.

"You feeling alright?" Dazed, she nods before smiling and giving me a shaky thumbs up. "Good," I reach out to her and she takes my hand again. With great care I pull her closer to me so we can sit beside each other on the bed. She leans against me, the pole strapped to her back touching my face and making me feel even colder. I can ignore it though, as long as I can keep her here by my side.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: SETTLING DUST

The old wooden floor creaks beneath us as we retrace our steps in the tired house. Scarlet pads ahead of me, nose pressed to the ground. Her hard muscles flex beneath her shining fur with each step, rippling as she moves cautiously in the empty hallway. Occasionally Marley floats too close to her and she swats at him with her thin black tail. He spins away from her, making tiny cooing noises as he dances in the stagnant air.

Without Scout there's a painful loss of heat and light. Cloudy midday sunlight struggles to break through the dirty windows, leaving us alone in the near-darkness. I'd have my flashlight out if I had a free hand, but I need my crowbar and it didn't feel right to put the jar of ashes in my backpack. A long, bright trail of dust flutters in a line from a hole in the wall, leaving a streak of pale blue on the floor.

I notice something odd below me and look down to see a dark stain on the decaying wood. My shoe fits perfectly into the thin lines cut into it. There are dried pools of dark red all down the hall and up the stairs, leading into Cheryl's room where we spent the night just a few long days ago. Scarlet sniffs one quickly and then turns back to look at me, her eyes gleaming in the shadows.

She follows the pattern of blood stains to the base of the stairs and puts one paw on the lowest step. Her tail swishes through the air, curling and straightening impatiently. I hesitate, taking in the light pouring from upstairs. The aching floorboards creak as I shift my weight, taking a slow step toward my partner. I stop and look away from her, staring down at the faded crowbar in my hand.

Her paw steps are swift and quiet as she follows me out of the hallway. The hand holding her ashes shivers violently, and I lean against a chipped and worn wall. Scarlet curls her tail around her paws and sits at my feet, the air heavy with the sound of my weighted breathing.

The intense heat was warm against my face, the smoke stinging my eye. Stray sparks leapt toward me, barreling through the gray in flashes of bright red and white. I squinted, clenching my fists tightly at my side. Flames clung to the wood near my feet, flickering and shuddering on the dry branches.

A large Magmar was barely visible through the thick smoke, an endless stream of flame bursting from his mouth. He stopped only occasionally to catch his breath before continuing with his relentless blast.

Everything smelt like fire and death. Scout was the only one standing beside me because I didn't think anyone else could handle the heat or the smell. She was stock-still and completely silent, her eyes narrowed in the wind.

Beyond the roar of the fire was a low drone, a hum building slowly in the night. It would rise to a glorious climax every few moments before fading away and gathering enough energy to begin again. Candlelight fell out of the church's windows, leaving small reflections of trembling flames shaking on the cold layer of snow. A shout burst from the thin walls only once before being overtaken by a joyous chorus. Dark shadows shifted forward like an assembly line in the stained-glass windows. One of their preachers spoke with such fervor I could understand her from outside.

My face burned like I stuck my head in a bucket of hot water. The thick smoke penetrated into my lungs and gripped my chest with all its strength. Breathing was painful and I could hardly see, yet I could not turn away. No matter how much it hurt, my gaze was locked unflinchingly on the foul bonfire laid out before me.

A spark bit my hand and seared into my skin. I swallowed hard and ignored the pain, struggling to breathe calmly when I was surrounded by smoke.

Marley dashes into the side room and spins around, cooing loudly. One of his stringy arms skims over a torn and battered couch. The fabric is ripped back to expose the yellow cushion underneath. He giggles happily while floating past a painting too faded to make any sense of. What remains of an old cabinet sits below it; its doors swung wide and glassless. Only a few shards of broken china lay scattered about inside. Thick, large webs hold feebly to the cabinet's corners, their silken thread long turned gray and ragged with age.

With a curious coo Marley phases through the cabinet. He cheers when he reappears at the other side, flipping over and contorting his face strangely. Then he hovers there, expression fading. Scarlet's whiskers twitch in annoyance but she does nothing. He slowly falls to the floor in a defeated heap, his long arms lying out before him on the dusty ground.

There's a large window on the west side of the room, but it's too dark to see anything through. Each pane has been consumed by dark yellow muck, blocking most of the light from outside. The old house moans with every passing breeze, its wall too thin to silence even the weakest scratch from a shaking tree.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears, my lungs begging greedily for air I can't give them. I sink against the decaying wall and put my face in my hands. Marley hovers beside me and lays a tentative arm on my shoulder. Taking care not to harm him, I lightly pick his arm up and let it drop towards the floor. He holds it by his face and examines it closely for a moment before leaving it to fall limp. I turn away from him and press my palms into my face, rubbing my eye and making sure not to irritate my scars.

They've been hurting much more lately, and the skin is getting too taut to move. When I speak I feel as though there's a weight pressing down on the left side of my lip. When I sleep I have to make sure I'm not on my left side so I don't feel a terrible numbness in the morning. The eye patch is effective at hiding most of the wound, but it's gotten so dirty that the extra weight is uncomfortable. I like to think I've gotten used to the loss of vision, but I'm still having a significant amount of difficulty just getting up and down stairs.

Something cold brushes against my cheek and I look up from my hands. Marley has his arms wrapped around my crowbar, and he's holding it effortlessly while keeping a steady height. He coos softly at me and gently pushes the weapon toward my face. Scarlet watches us from across the room, her tail sweeping back and forth over the ground.

With a heavy sigh and a jolt of pain I push myself up along the wall. A thin gasp escapes me and I press my hand to my aching back. Marley floats beside me and watches with concern filling his dark eyes. I mumble to him that I'm fine and carefully pry my crowbar from his arms. He dips down to pick up the jar of ashes and I take those as well.

Scarlet pads back into the hallway and yawns, flicking her tail for us to follow.

Jupiter smiled gently at me from across the bed, her fingers tracing over a simplistic design on my blanket. "We only want to help you, Jay. If you stay with us we can give you things you'd never be able to have on your own."

The offer was tempting but I knew as soon as she brought it up I couldn't accept it. I feared that choosing to stay with her and her followers would make me complacent, inactive. Even if I only agreed to wait with her a month or two I may never want to leave. "I can't do that. I promised her I'd get all the gym badges, and I can't do that staying here."

She leaned a bit closer to me, pressing her hands into the flimsy fabric. "You don't think she'd just want you to be happy? And you have her Pokémon, too…it's only a child, isn't it? Surely she would want you all to be surrounded by people who love and support you." Her smile widened and she bat her eyelashes several times. "We could be your family, Jay. And we're always open to having a new brother."

I wanted to tell her I didn't need a new family, that my team is my family. But from what I'd seen so far her and her people would hardly have believed me if I told them that. Aside from a few babies I saw toddling around, the Pokémon there were treated like either stupid pets or work horses. Cheryl was right when she said I rely on my team for a lot of things, but I certainly don't treat them like my slaves. "I can't. I just- I can't."

Her expression wilted and her eyes filled with pity that grated on my nerves harder than anything she'd said so far. She grasped my hand and held it in both of hers. Bowing her head so low her hair brushed against my skin, she said a rapid prayer underneath her breath and put her dry lips to my hand. She stayed there for an uncomfortably long time before slowly placing my hand back on the bed and rising out of her seat.

She stopped several meters from the door and turned half-way to face me. "What shall we do with the bodies?"

I hadn't given any thought to that. Gulping, I shifted uncomfortably and shrugged meekly. "Uh…bury them?"

She shook her head slowly with the same gentle smile on her face. "I'm so sorry; Jay, but we can't do that. Our burial ground is for church members and their families only. If you agreed to come with us I would be happy to oblige, but unfortunately as a mere passer-by we cannot give her a place in our cemetery."

"Is there anything else you can do for them? I mean…" I didn't finish because I didn't want to know the answer to what I was going to ask. I let myself keep thinking she wouldn't just make me carry my friend's body to a random location where I'd have to bury her and her team mate.

She ran her fingers along her chin and tapped her heel like she was deep in thought. Her eyes flicked back and forth and her lips pursed. There was a flash of hesitation on her face where I swore I saw a trace of genuine sympathy before it melted back into its borderline-condescending gentleness. "I suppose we could cremate them. One of church members has a rather powerful Magmar that I believe could handle such a task. It will probably be better too, seeing as how she was a lower race and will likely turn soon."

"Uhm…what? How does that make any sense?" I hadn't heard the phrase "lower race" used since well before the outbreak, and I certainly hadn't heard it used when talking about the undead. In fact, the last person to say "lower race" that I could remember was my mother.

"Well, you see, uhm…you and her were…well it hardly matters now, anyway. I'll go tell Jon we need to use his Magmar." She stepped through the door and let it slam shut behind her.

"No, wait-" I started to get out of bed, but a surge of pain burst through me and I was forced to lie back down. I decided that whatever insane beliefs she held didn't matter as long as I was getting what I needed. In a few days I figured I'd never need to see or think about her ever again.

Her bedroom is just as deathly quiet as it was the night we slept here. Scarlet makes one round of the room before restraining herself and sitting silently at my feet. Marley hovers at my side, one arm resting weightlessly on my shoulder.

With a deep breath I bend down and place the jar of ashes in the corner of the room. There are fewer bloodstains here than anywhere else and there isn't nearly as much dust built up. My knees ache and the floor creaks as I kneel before her. I don't know any prayers or poems to tell her, so I just sit quietly and think about the stories she told me.

I fish around in my pocket and take out the two PokeBalls that short-circuited. With trembling hands I lay them on either side of her. Now she'll be next to them for as long as nobody comes in here. They were the same Pokémon that protected her when she was a child and the same ones that helped her survive in Floaroma. Scarlet pads over to me and holds up her paw so I can sling what remains of Cheryl's things off the Luxio's back. I lay her bat against the wall, as well as a little journal I didn't know she had.

Scarlet lies down and puts her head on her paws. A single spark of electricity races through her fur, and for a second her ears prick up. I put my hand between her shoulders and she purrs. Marley hovers by my side and rubs his face against mine.

I have her last PokeBall in my hand. It's the only one of her Pokémon that survived the electrocution. With a soft click a bright light shoots out from inside it, revealing a nervous, sniveling Togepi.

"You're Elizabeth, aren't you?" She stares at me with confused, wet eyes. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. If you don't want me to watch over you, I completely understand. I-I don't think I deserve to be your trainer, but if you'll have me I promise I'll take care of you as best I can." She starts trembling violently, then falls onto her butt and begins to sob.

With as much care and gentleness as I can manage, I pluck the screaming Pokémon from the ground and take her into my arms. Her tears are hot and wet on my neck. "Sh…it's okay, Elizabeth. It's okay…" She gradually quiets down, still sniffling but no longer crying.

She rubs her little face against my neck, hiccupping loudly. I hold her close to me and don't move, trying my hardest not to scare her. When I finally pry her from my neck, she mumbles something unintelligible and rolls over in my arms, sound asleep.

ELIZABETH HAS JOINED THE TEAM!

Name: Elizabeth

Togepi, Female

Normal

Docile nature, finicky.

END OF PART FOUR


	41. Chapter Forty

PART FIVE: MAYDAY!

** AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello readers! Thank you so much for keeping up with this story and giving me your wonderful support! I really appreciate all that you've done. The story is now coming into its final part, so I figured, why not hold a character Q&A? Send in questions via either review or PM for any character still currently alive. If you want the list, I can give it to you so don't worry about trying to remember everything. Again, thank you all so much and I can't wait to see how it comes out!**

CHAPTER FORTY: REMINISCE

The bike is covered in rust, but in all the right places. I found it hidden beneath a pile of random debris, glinting very slightly in the sunlight slipping through the cracks in the ceiling. It feels steady and doesn't shake much, though the tires could probably use a little more air. The stained metal basket attached to the front is strong enough to hold anything I don't want on my back and deep enough to keep my supplies from falling out. I tie a strip of fabric over everything as a precaution in case I run into trouble.

The bright orange sunrise sets the long road in a pale, clouded light. Route 206 is a straight shot, slanting downwards towards the Oreburgh terminal resting silently on the hazy horizon. My jacket lifts out behind me as a faint breeze stirs the air. It whistles as it flits over the snow covering the road, drawing the heads of tired plants into the ground. Sharp cliffs line us on either side, giving way to a deep and expansive valley below. The shadow of the Coronet Range looms over the route, its snow-capped peaks jutting sharply into the sky.

I swing one leg over the bike and rest my right foot on a pedal. The tires press down into the snow, crunching quietly as it condenses beneath my weight. A vast series of footprints covers the road, the markings of dirty feet leaving dark marks in the clean snow. Abandoned supplies are strewn about; everything from empty cans to torn-up shoes lining the roadside.

Inching forward, I put a little more weight on the wheels to gauge how well it can handle the terrain. The hard tires hold strong to the ground, using the deep ridges down their middle to grip the snow and keep from slipping. Pushing down on the pedal and bringing my other foot into position, the bike starts to move very slowly over the snow.

Leo taught me how to ride a bike when we were nine years old. His father found an old one for me at the dump and we all worked together to fix it up. I was terrified every time he brought that old bike to my house. He was missing one of his two front teeth after colliding head first with a wall on a sled, so whenever he smiled I could see straight through the gap into his mouth. He would have his shivering hands wrapped around the handlebars, his cheeks puffy and red with cold. I would open the door wearing only pajamas and insisting it was too cold to go out. I'd try to convince him to come inside and maybe play a game, but he wouldn't have it.

So every time he came around I'd give up and head back in to get my winter gear on. Then we'd trudge up to the top of a hill, and he'd tell me to get on the bike. I would refuse and remind him how cold it was and could we please go home? But as I protested he'd be easing me on to the bike. I'd swing one leg over while still filling the air with stupid excuses. Then, as soon as he thought I was somewhere in the vicinity of ready, he'd push me down the hill mid-sentence and start to run after me.

I crashed the first four or five times we tried it. The most I ever got was a broken finger, but it was still enough to make me hate going out with him on those winter days. After a particularly bad crash I finally told him I'd had enough. He waited until I was done complaining before surprising me by giving in.

"Okay, you can go home. We don't need to do this anymore. I just thought maybe if I taught you how to ride a bike we could do it together in the summer. That's okay though, I'll just go off on my own. You can stay inside all alone with your mommy all summer."

The very idea of being stuck inside with my mother for any amount of time terrified me. After a quick moment of hesitation I held out my hand and demanded he give me the bike. We climbed back up to the top of the hill and, as always, he didn't wait for me to finish my list of reservations before pushing me as hard as he could.

For one glorious and horrifying moment I felt completely out of control. My legs could barely keep up with the pedals as they whipped around in violent circles. The wind tore into my skin and eyes, stinging the already-sore skin painfully. I gasped as I neared the bottom of the hill, bracing myself to hit an exposed rock and fly into a hard, cold snow bank.

On a desperate whim I pulled the handlebars to the left and leaned the same way. The bike shot off away from the rock and down the hill to the flat road below. Its speed gradually decreased until I had to pedal to stay upright. My heart raced, adrenaline burned through my veins like wildfire. Leo ran in front of me and braced himself against the handlebars. I fell forward slightly but caught myself, staring dead-straight into his wide, excited amber eyes.

From then on I felt much more comfortable on a bike, and come that summer we would head into the woods almost daily to see how far we could get before dinner. I was never as good as Leo, but that was okay with me. I was always okay with being weaker than him. He was smarter, stronger, and faster than me, and I accepted it.

I reach back quickly to feel my crowbar at my back. There's rust consuming it now, its smooth steel tarnished by harsh red blotches. Breathing deeply, I let it go and put my hand back on the handlebars.

I didn't stop being okay with second best until we became trainers. Scout and I were always a stronger team than him and Prinplup. She made me feel like the most powerful man on earth, which meant Leo could not possibly be stronger than us when it came to battling. He would joke about it constantly, but behind every hollow laugh I felt a creeping paranoia. I suspected he was jealous of me, but would then immediately reject that as arrogant and ridiculous.

But as it always went, I would start to really think. Every little thing he did was a subtle hint of his hatred. Every harmless bout of teasing, everything he said about Scout being little, everything was a sign. It was inevitable that we would eventually part ways in our journey, but for me the question was always when.

A loud caw tears through my thoughts. I stop suddenly and look around, scanning the sky for an alien shape. Slipping my crowbar out from the front of my backpack, I swing my leg over the bike and let it fall sideways into the snow. The air is still and crisp in the mid-December cold. Graying plants shudder in the breeze. The Coronet Range watches silently overhead.

The sound does not come again. I keep quiet and don't move for some time longer, waiting with strained breath for any break in the quiet around me. My muscles begin to ache from standing in the same position for so long; my fingers twitch from holding my crowbar so tightly.

As long moments pass with no new sound, I begin to wonder if maybe it was all in my head. Nothing moves on the sharp cliff sides around me. The wind ruffles my hair but neither howls nor sings. I turn slowly and pull my bike out of the snow. With a cautious hand wrapped in my thick winter sleeve, I wipe the freezing water from the bike.

I don't get very far down the road before I hear the same noise again. This time I swing off the bike and toss it to the side in one fluid movement. I rip my crowbar out of its hold and look around desperately, turning in every direction for the threat I know is here. A single stone tumbles from the cold rock on the cliff side and falls into the valley below, making me jump and shake in anticipation. My heart races and sweat begins to pool on my neck. A shiver jolts down my spine and sets every hair on end.

The wind fades away to leave me in complete silence. With a nervous and fumbling hand I fish Scarlet's PokeBall from my pocket. Marley's comes out with it and drops into the snow below. Cursing, I release Scarlet and bend down to grab his PokeBall.

She hisses loudly, pawing angrily at the ground and holding her tail straight up in agitation. Her fur stands on end, especially her mane. She arches her back and bares her teeth, a low growl escaping from deep within the chest.

My freezing finger slips and I accidentally release Marley. A bright light shoots out from his PokeBall, but before I can call him back I hear the noise again.

It grows louder, surrounding us. Each builds off the last, creating a terrifying cacophony of unnatural, vaguely animalistic noises. Scarlet roars at a huge mass creeping over the horizon. It shifts and shakes in an erratic, dangerous pattern. Marley cries out loudly and swirls around me, giving a proud "pchoo" as he hovers to my side.

A massive horde of undead Starly and Staravia are upon us in seconds. I strike at the first one I see, slamming into it as hard as I can with my crowbar. Its skull crunches and it falls hard to the ground. Blood splatters across my face when I shove the sharp end of my weapon through one's stomach, flicking my wrist to toss it of the end. Their beaks are barely attached to their faces, their feathers ripped off in massive strips. Many of them are missing eyes and have only deep, fleshy hollows where they should be.

Scarlet shoots off a burst of energy, tearing several out of the sky. She keeps blasting them with small jolts while nimbly dodging the ones that get too close. I swing my crowbar into two dive-bombing for me and leap to the Luxio's aide. I cover her back and she covers mine.

The air is thick with the reek of death and the crackle of electricity. Soreness creeps into my body and grabs for my arms and legs but I fight through it, constantly shifting to stay off whatever hurts the most. A Staravia missing both its eyes and a good part of its beak flies straight for me and hovers there while I hold it off, struggling against its weight to keep it off my face.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch Marley spinning through the air and avoiding every Starly that comes near him. He dances and flits around their clumsy strikes while crying out and giggling happily. I yell for him and he floats to me, hovering by my face while I hold off the massive Staravia. I gasp when its claws cut through my clothes and dig into my skin. With my opposite hand I grab it by the face and break the head from the rest of the body. It falls to the ground as soon as I pry its claws from my flesh.

"Scarlet, Charge." She meows confusedly between growls of anger and grunts of effort. "Just do it, Marley, cover her." The Drifloon looks at me with big, surprised eyes. With a harsh swing I slam my crowbar into another Starly. "You can do it, Marley." He "pchoos" quietly, then spins out of my sight to help his team mate.

I feel a strange shift in the air as Scarlet begins to charge. The Starly want her even more now, but Marley and I can hold them off well enough that she has room to ready herself.

Marley fights using strange balls of dark energy, or occasionally a gust of dark wind. He dodges their initial assaults, then spins to their side and unleashes a blast of purplish matter that sends them flying backwards. The Starly just keep coming, diving for us out of the sky. Their blood splatters onto the snow, bodies landing on top of each other in a thick layer of unmoving gore.

It all smells awful, and I can feel my lungs tightening. Each breath feels forced and heavy, my chest burning for air. My body hurts more and more with each swing. Pain surges through me and I bend over for a small second to calm the sharpness. Marley dashes to me and releases a burst large enough to spare us a few precious moments.

"Scarlet, now." I hiss, knowing that she can hear me. I grab for Marley to try and shield him from the electricity, but when I reach for him I feel only a painful heat. Turning quickly, I see the Drifloon suddenly enveloped in bright white light. Lightning shoots out from Scarlet's pelt and rockets through the air, stopping every Starly dead in its tracks. Marley's light fades and he floats over her, now much larger and much more powerful. The bodies drop to the ground around us, creating a thick circle of decaying, diseased flesh. Scarlet pants loudly, her body rising and falling with each breath. I look to Marley and he floats over to me, using one of his long, thick arms to help hold me up. I thank him and struggle to stand on my own, breathing heavily.

Through a trembling and shaking lens, I stare out to the road before us. A tall figure waits for us, a thin knife glinting in his hand. A very small person stands beside him, holding tightly to his waist. I ease myself back into a fighting position and get ready to protect my team.

But he doesn't threaten us or make any movements. He says something I can't understand, then his knees suddenly give out beneath him.


	42. Chapter Forty One

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: WRETCHED HIVE

I glance down at Scarlet and she meets my gaze with cold, hard eyes. She cracks her tail in the air like a whip and hisses quietly. Marley is silent, waiting for one of us to make the first move. I squint and tighten my grip over my crowbar. The snow crunches beneath me as I shift my weight.

The small figure falls to the man's side and shakes him violently by the shoulders. His hands are on his lap and he's sitting on his knees. His heads flops back and forth as the little person grips his shoulders.

Scarlet snarls when I make a cautious step toward them, but she follows anyway. Twitching corpses dot the snow, their blood seeping into the dirt-stained white. Dark red feathers cling to our bodies and fall heavily to the ground when I sweep them off. We walk on them as we wade through the snow, pressing them into the endless stream of footprints.

The small figure -clearly a child but not obviously a boy or girl- jumps up when we walk past. I don't look at it when I feel wide, wet eyes on me. A weak hand grips my arm and I shake it off, the gate in sight. I hear the child's feet shuffle in the snow and it trips, landing hard on the cold ground. Scarlet pads ahead of us, gaze locked on the path before her. The child begins to sniffle and whine. The Luxio snaps her tail in the air again and stops at the massive door to the gate. There's a huge hole burned through it, easily large enough to fit all three of us side-by-side.

The child starts to whimper for help. I can't see it because it's on my bad side, but I hear it perfectly fine. The sound stings my ears and I swallow down a painful ache in my chest. Clenching and unclenching the fist wrapped around my crowbar, I breathe steadily and ignore it.

"Please!" It cries out. The snow crunches loudly as it stumbles for us, fingers brushing the back of my leg. Scarlet growls, twitching her ears in annoyance. She's sitting in the cold snow, her tail sweeping over the ground impatiently. The child repeats its plea, but now its voice is weak and barely above a whisper.

Marley coos quietly; I'd forgotten about him until now. He floats over to me and hovers in front of my face. Apparently he can swell or shrink however it pleases him, because he's much smaller now than he was before. He drifts to the left and right slightly in the cold, stale air. The reek of death fills my nose with every breath, burning in my throat. I order Marley to step aside, and his face falls dejectedly. He starts to sway, then suddenly stops and raises his eyes back up to mine. Sensing his resolve, I repeat myself more sternly.

He doesn't move. I order him one last time to move out of my way. He expands so that he's much bigger than me and floats up to seem intimidating. "I don't have time for this," I hiss at him. His eyes widen when he sees the PokeBall gleaming in my hand. "Return."

The light struggles for a moment to consume him, shuddering in the air and shaking as he expands and contracts wildly to fight it. I inhale deeply and will him to give in, to accept my order and let the light overtake him. He battles against it a moment longer before being dragged inside. The ball shivers in my hand, then clicks loudly and shrinks to its travel size.

Scarlet turns back slightly, looking over her shoulder at me. Our eyes meet for a second, and a flash of understanding flows between us. Then in one lithe movement she leaps through the hole and disappears into the shadows inside. The sound of her paws skidding against the cold concrete scrapes against my ears.

The child is sobbing. I turn now to face her, trying not to notice her pained, blood-shot eyes. A spark of hope fills her face for a heartbeat, then fades quickly when I offer her neither help nor respite. She begs me to give her something, anything.

But I can't. Giving her anything means we'll have to go without, and we're already running low on everything. Food, water, medical supplies…I can't give her any of it.

I turn away from her and step through the door, following my team mate into the darkness. There's only a light dusting of snow in here, enough to make the floor slippery but not enough to slow us down. Scarlet's pelt sparkles with electricity, fighting the dark with tiny flashes.

I can see debris lying about, but only if I squint and stare really hard. Scarlet deviates from her path several times to examine one random artifact or another. The main exit has been blocked off by a massive wall of rusted metal objects, but I can see light pouring in through a side hall. We head towards the light, our footsteps echoing in the dark, empty room.

Sounds like a crazed mob drift in from outside. Shouting fills the air and occasionally I hear the roar of fire or the deep rumble of thunder. Scarlet's pelt prickles with nervous excitement, her tail twitching and sparks running through her fur. She looks back at me briefly, her eyes shining in the shadows. I nod at her and tell her we'll be fine. Her gaze lingers on me before she slowly turns away, hesitant but brave enough to keep moving.

Gripping my weapon tightly, I step out into the light. I rest one hand on the edge of the ragged hole sliced into the wall. The hard brick crumbles a bit beneath my fingers, and I rub the dust between them. I blink hard and narrow my eye to take in the chaotic mess before us.

The buildings of Oreburgh are lying in ruin, but each one seethes with people and Pokémon. They spill out from the mess of scattered bricks and shattered concrete into the waste-filled streets. Rickety tents lean against free-standing walls, covering shivering, raucous people and their equally crazed companions. Beggars roam the rancid road with their hands held out desperately, begging for food or water. Their Pokémon are mangy, rabid creatures baring their teeth and shivering with anxiety. The people inside the tents curse at the beggars and hurl rocks at them, sending the decrepit things scampering back into the streets.

The stench of waste -human and Pokémon- saturates the air. I wrinkle my nose and gag, the reek smacking me as hard a bat to the face. I smell blood too, mingling with the ever-present aroma of death and decay to create a terrible combination of rotten stink overwhelming my lungs and filling my airways. I see now that many of the beggars have open wounds that fester and bubble with infection so obvious I can see it from where I'm standing. They cluster together and cling to each other's ragged, tattered clothing. Their Pokémon are hardly any better off. They run from tent to tent sniffing around for scraps of food. The people inside are always quick to send them off any way they can, be it by a painful smack or an attack from one of their own companions.

Scarlet hisses at my side and takes a step backward into the gate. She snarls at the awful reek and snaps her jaws angrily. Biting my lip, I let out a shuddering breath and look down to meet her anxious gaze. A spark travels down her pelt and up to her tail.

We don't have much of a choice; we can't realistically go back. The entrance to Mt. Coronet is blocked off by a fairly large landslide, and we know there isn't anywhere else we can go. I already have the Coal Badge, so it's not like we need to go searching for it. I guess we could just pass through and try to find another way through Mt. Coronet.

But what if Erin is here? What if she's hiding somewhere in this wretched hive? I promised Cheryl I would honor her, and if we turn back we might never get that chance. Even if I have to dig through all the trash of this disgusting city, I'll find her.

One of the beggars sits against a wall, picking ruthlessly at a rotting gash on her arm. Her yellow teeth glint in the early morning sunlight as a disturbingly smile cracks across her face. She peels a long strip of skin off her arm and waggles it in front of a Pokémon so ragged I can't tell what it is. An Umbreon? A Houndour? A Mightyena? The dog-like Pokémon gets painfully to its feet and sniffs the strip of skin wearily. She tosses it down the street and yells at the miserable creature to retrieve it for her. It stares at her in abject horror for a moment before she hits it hard. Yelping, the flea-ridden mutt bolts after the strip of flesh while his cackling trainer sits and points at him.

A child picks up the piece of flesh and holds it above his head. He dances around with it and throws it to a girl with hardly any hair on her sunburned head. She screams but then laughs, kicking it away into the street and yelling at the dog Pokémon chasing after it. The boy runs back to it and teases the poor thing, shaking it above him and making him jump up to try and catch it. The Pokémon whimpers but fights hard, his ragged, furless legs pumping hard to reach the disgusting toy. With a solid, powerful kick the young girl sends the Pokémon rolling across the street. He lays there in the center, panting hard. The children go out to play with his broken body some more, kicking and throwing him until a man that must be their father calls them over. The dog does not move. His trainer walks over and lifts his leg disapprovingly before letting it drop back to the ground. He starts to move and she laughs some more, grabbing him violently by his neck and dragging him back to wear they were sitting before.

Surely a rotten and wretched person like Erin would live here amidst such awful things. I can see her now in the eyes of every despondent street rat begging for a scrap of food. I can see her in the raggedly-thin, screeching old woman waving a bloody metal rod at a child running off with a packet of powdered milk. There are flashes of red hair hiding amidst the crowd, flashes of the woman I vow to kill.

"Come on," I say simply. Scarlet stares at me in bewilderment and I take a quick look around to make sure there's no one close to us before kneeling before her and grasping her tightly by the shoulders. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her listen. "She's here, Scarlet. I know she's here, I can feel it. If you want to avenge Cheryl, and Colin, and Daisy, and Molly, well, here's our chance. I wish it wasn't like this here, I wish we could finally get some rest. But we can't. We have to keep moving and working and doing what we know we have to do." She looks down, tail twitching nervously. "Hey," I put my hand lightly beneath her chin. Her gaze flicks back up to mine, and I smile at her. "One of these days things will get easier. They have to. But for now we just have to live with what we've got. You see those trainers out there?" I point toward the streets and her gaze follows my hand. She nods quickly, and I let my hand drop to my side. "Hell, those can't even be called trainers. They're just lucky enough to still be able but too stupid to know how important their team mates are. Scarlet, I promise I'll protect you from them. I'll never, ever treat you like that and I promise I'll see to it that no one else ever does. We're the strongest things we've got, Scarlet. We have to work together and get through this."

Fire bursts out of one of the buildings while several loud, laughing boys jump out the second-story window and run off into the street. Two mangy Flareon jump out after them and vanish into the terrified crowd. Scarlet tenses beneath my careful hands and I feel a shiver race down her spine. "We'll get through together, Scarlet. It'll be hard, but we'll survive."


	43. Chapter Forty Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Keep sending in those Q&A questions! I'm in desperate need, as there aren't nea****rly enough. You can send in ques****tions of any sort to any character still alive, no matter how personal or silly! Pokemon characters are great too, like Scout or Scarlet. I'm really excited to see how this turns out, so please send in some questions!**

**Thanks for reading. :)**

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: FREEZING

I pull off my eye patch and wrap the thin, ragged fabric around Scarlet's muzzle. The wounds are completely closed and it's not like I'm trying to impress anyone, so it hardly matters if I have it on or not anymore.

Without even walking into the city I've seen far worse injuries than mine, like a man hobbling around on one leg, a child missing several fingers, and another man who seems to be missing his scalp; I don't think Zombies would ever do something like that. If they got close enough to scalp someone, they obviously would have just eaten him. No, another person had to have done that. The wound looked fresh too, so I assume it was someone here. Probably the same kind of person who would randomly set a house on fire.

The smoke is thick as we walk quickly through the street. Scarlet's eyes dart back and forth, suspicious of everything and everyone. A panicking, screaming man races by and nearly runs into us, forcing me to stop short and suck in a sharp stream of smoke. It burns in the back of my throat and stings in my chest, but living with Scout has given me enough tolerance to swallow back the cough. Thankfully the smoke seems to have scared everyone else off, so we have a clear path through the crowd.

Scarlet flicks her tail and pads steadily beside me. I can already see people gathered on the sidewalk, just outside the dark gray cloud. There's a skinny thing, maybe an old man or a young woman, waving their arms about and yelling loudly. Something floats beside the figure, barely visibly through the haze.

There's a small crowd gathered around them, listening and watching intently. As the roar of the flame behind us fades I hear a deep, low growl reverberating from Scarlet's throat. The person is directly in our path, and their audience blocks the rest of the street.

"Excuse me," I mumble, trying to sidestep them. A pair of empty blue eyes suddenly meets mine and I stop dead in my tracks. Pale white hairs stick out from the woman's head, singed slightly and spread very thin. She grasps my arm and pulls me close, smiling so wide I can count all five of her blackened teeth.

"All we wants a bit a food! Big man like you must of plenny a food! Er how 'bout some water? Jus' a bit a water? All we wants a bit a water!" She doubles over, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach while she cackles shrilly. I try to pull away but her grip only tightens. Scarlet scraps her paw against the ground and snarls loudly, her tail snapping back and forth in the thick air. I can hear her claws dragging hard across the broken concrete while sparks shoot up and down her spine. "Ya see 'ere?" The old woman yells, straightening suddenly and turning back to the crowd gathered before her. "No one's got eny food er water! They're keepin' us 'ere with the rot an' the grime while they sit on their thrones and eat offa gold!" She lets go of me and I step away, scanning the crowd for the easiest way through. A presence, heavy and dark, fills the air behind me and nausea sweeps through my stomach. I turn slightly to see her Ghastly glaring at me with huge, terrifying eyes. The woman whips her arm out to me and points a shaking finger in my face. "Is a crime is what it is! No! More 'an that! Is a sin, a damned sin!"

The crowd starts to yell and raise their fists. I can't tell whether they approve of what she's saying or want to skin her alive for it; either way I turn and sprint for the crowd. Their sweaty, rancid bodies press against me as I force my way through them. I feel my heart race, the pressure pushing down on my brain. Sweat pools on my neck and I begin to panic, reaching desperately through them for the way out.

I push through the crowd and burst out onto a street just as loud and stinking. A few people stand around to look at the smoke, and I realize that many of the people "listening" to that woman were probably just trying to get a better look at where the fire was. They ignore Scarlet and I as we push past, their eyes glued to the darkening sky.

Something grabs my arm and this time I don't hesitate to wrench it away. A woman with deep wrinkles and sunken eyes stares up at me. She has some kind of veil wrapped over her head and tied at her chin, barely concealing her bedraggled hair. "You alright, sir? You seemed a little lost, and I was wondering if you'd like a bit of company."

I narrow my eye and take a step back, immediately suspicious. "Company?" Scarlet sits down beside me, her ears pricked.

"Well, yes! We have a nice little place right over there!" She points vaguely down the street. "All nice and warm, hon. And, if you won't go spreading it around, we've got a bit of water too. But of course, you didn't hear it from me." She winks, and it looks almost painful. Her words sound rehearsed, her voice straining to sound upbeat and energetic.

I chew on my lip for a second before answering her. "You must want something in exchange, if you actually have water."

"Well, just between you an' me, we got a lot more than water in there." She grabs my arm again, this time with much less force. "We're really just a bunch of lonely girls, if you could maybe give us some food or bandages we'd certainly appreciate it. And you can trust me when I say we'll make it worth your while…" I roll my eye and start walking away. I don't feel like getting mugged. "Wait!" She runs up to me and touches my face lightly. "Those are quite some scars there, aren't they? Must have hurt quite a bit…would you like a friend of mine to have a look at them? She was a nurse, back before all this."

"I can take care of myself, thanks." She follows me again, then stops when Scarlet growls loudly at her.

"You know, I really think you might enjoy our company. We only want to help you out some…" I ignore her and keep walking, turning away so she can't make sleazy eye contact any more.

Finally defeated, the woman turns around and walks back to a group of other women waiting on the sidewalk. They talk loudly and one of them slaps her. She holds her cheek and walks back out into the street while the other women laugh. I swallow hard and stop looking at her. I tell myself it's her fault for relying on people who treat her like dirt, but I know if she could leave them she probably would.

Someone throws a rock at me and I whip around to face them, my grip tightening around my crowbar. A bloated old man raves at me, hurling another rock in my general direction. Scarlet growls and takes a step toward him, but he just laughs and picks up another to hit her with.

She lunges for him and I grab her violently by the neck, pulling her back toward me so hard she yelps. "Sorry, Scarlet. He's not worth it. Just ignore him, we'll be okay." She looks up at me and then back at the crazy old man chuckling alone on the side of the street. He throws another rock at us as we walk away, Scarlet's ears twitching in annoyance.

There has to be some respite from all the insanity here. Where do all these people sleep? They can't possibly trust the other people here enough to stay out on the streets. If they live in the houses, they have no reason to come out here and fester.

Maybe they have a trading post somewhere. As much as I'd hate to give anything away, we need to find a place to stay and I suppose we could trade a bit of water for information. Looking around, the only negotiation I see is between a scantily-clad woman and a middle-aged man. Standing in one place too long seems to attract the scent of urine and the attention of random street women, so Scarlet and I have to keep moving.

The city seems to be set up like a messy grid, but most of the street signs are either gone or covered in feces so it's impossible to see where we are. Something falls on my head and I look up to see a little girl shaking a blanket out of her second-story window. What I hope is dust showers us and I sneeze a little when it tickles my nose. Figuring she's as reliable a person as any, I wave my arm around and call up to get her attention. She leans out of the window, biting her lip nervously. "Hey, is there anywhere we can stay tonight that won't result in us getting all of our supplies stolen?"

"What?" She yells back, her thin voice barely audible over the clamor of the street. She has long, pale blonde hair that falls over her shoulders and touches the empty flowerbed hanging from her windowsill.

"Where do you people sleep?" I say, much louder this time.

"Uhm…I don't know who you are!"

"Yeah, I know, I just need some help down here!" She turns around slightly, as if someone's calling her. She looks back at us for a split second before yanking the blanket back inside and slamming the two-pane window shut. Sighing heavily, I wait about a minute before realizing she isn't coming out. I shouldn't have expected her to help; I'm not sure why I did.

"Lookin' fer a place to stay?" I look down at a young man reclining over the step. He's wearing a thick jacket and has a mangy Aipom resting in his lap. His face is covered in grime, but his pale eyes shine from beneath the dirt. "There's a place jus' outside a town. They're not very friendly, but worth a shot. Use' to be the ol' lab, now is just a bunch of random people with big old dinos protectin' 'em. They'll prolly turn you 'way, but like I said they're worth a shot." I don't understand where his accent is from. I've heard it a couple times now and I still can't identify it. There are a variety of different accents in Sinnoh, but this one was completely alien to me until now.

"Thanks. What accent is that?" I know it shouldn't matter -help is help- but I'm curious.

He laughs a bit and raises an eyebrow. "Not sure what you mean. You sound pretty weird to me, mos' a the people 'ere talk like this." His Aipom shifts in his lap and he runs a gloved hand through its fur. "Where you from? If I hadda guess…" He bites his lip and looks away from me for a second, looking much deeper in thought than he needs to. "You sound like you're from the south. Sandgem? One a them Almia kids? Though most people don't head north from there, that's fur sure." He laughs again, a deep, throaty sound. "But yeah, I s'pose is jus' what most people around here have. Guess we've taken the regular ol' Oreburgh sound and made it our own."

"Oh, alright then." I'd never really thought of myself as having an accent, but I guess everyone does. I definitely wouldn't have expected it to be that obvious. "You're right, I am from Sandgem." He smiles toothlessly and nods. "What do you mean most people don't come north from Almia?"

He shrugs and leans back more so he can put his elbows against the concrete. "I've seen people from all over the west, but not a sing'l one from the east, north, or Almia." His face darkens suddenly. "Some people like to say we're in some sorta conspir'cy, that we're bein' kept here 'gainst our will. That's why we never see no one from eny where else, 'cause they jus' can't get in. They're not allowed. Guess I jus' dunno whata think. Guess I fine it a little strange that both a the ways through Mt. Cornet are all fallen in."

"What? You mean the Oreburgh path is closed off too?" He laughs at my shock; bitter, cold.

"You're new, aren't you? Yup, both paths a caved in. Can't get through no matter how hard w'll tried. Now I wasn't 'ere during the outbreak, but I heard that lots a people heard a big old boom 'bout a week after. Nothing nat'ral, not an earthquake or nothin'. A boom like dyne'mite." He sits up and his Aipom wakes angrily. It slips out from his arms and sits beside him on the curb, scratching its butt furiously. "But what do I know? Go see for yourself. Is on the way to the lab, you're bound to see it."

I thank him and start walking in the direction he said the lab was. Scarlet is silent now, just as lost in thought as I am. If what that man said is true -if there's really isn't any way out- then we're trapped here. We could go back, but how can we when we've come this far?

And if what he said about the government is right, how can we even hope to stay alive? Eventually we'll run out of food and supplies if we're trapped in this bubble. There isn't enough to support everyone now, how can we even hope to support everyone if we can't get anything new?

The sun has crawled to the center of the sky, but I don't feel any warmed than I did earlier. In fact, I only feel much, much colder.


	44. Chapter Forty Three

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: HOLDING ON

Clean air smacks me in the face as soon as I step out of the city. I suck in a deep breath and savor it, holding it in my lungs for an extra second or two before letting it out in a steady stream. My chest already feels less tight, less heavy without the weight of the claustrophobic city. The people keep scrambling about miserably inside their walls, mostly ignoring us.

Around every corner was another person pleading for help, another child trying to take whatever he imagined was in my pockets. Old men and women would lean out of their rancid sleeping places and hold their hands to us with wide, desperate eyes. Once a couple of boys about my age tried to intimidate us using their Pokémon, but they were too stupid to know not to pit water against electric. Young women came up to me, trying to convince me I was in need of "company" or "comfort."

Scarlet and I ignored them, intent on getting the hell out of there at any cost. I feel like there's a thick layer of grime covering my skin, and my head aches from the noise and the stench. Until now we've been wonderfully alone, paranoid but free on the open routes of Sinnoh. We spent every night listening with bated breath for the crack of a twig or the flap of wings, but we never had to worry about other people robbing or kidnapping us.

How could anyone live there? Every person wants to kidnap you, steal your supplies, or kill you. There isn't any food or water, and I'd sooner take my chances with the undead than with the living. Could these people really be trapped here? Or do they feel more secure together than alone?

I turn back slightly to look at the city. Just like most places in Sinnoh, it stops abruptly at a clearly determined line. I know I was taught the reason for such a strange choice at some point, but obviously it didn't matter because I don't remember even a shadow of it now. The tents are so tightly clustered in the street that it's hard to tell where one ends and another begins. The smell drifts to us and I wrinkle my nose, resisting the urge to gag.

Scarlet paces forward and sniffs the ground, flicking her tail around in the air. I bend down next to her and gently take my eye patch off of her muzzle, shoving it unceremoniously in my pocket. Straightening, I blink against the sunlight and take in the gray expanse before us. There are tents lying out here too, but nothing stirs save for an occasional leaf blowing across the dirt. Dark remains of bonfires litter the road, placed randomly about between the tents.

Something darts from one tent to another, and I squint to see it. A small figure, probably a child, races from tent to tent carrying some sort of bag. He has it hoisted over his back, and slows down with each passing as it seems to grow heavier. He stumbles a bit, sending a flourish of dirt into the air, then vanishes.

Scarlet shifts slightly and glances up at me. I shrug and motion for us to ignore him. Why should we care if some little kid is looting people's things? It's probably better for him anyway. She paws at the ground and looks over to the sharp, white mountains towering above us. That man said the path through was caved in, but I'd like to see it for myself. I know it's dumb, but I can't help but feel like maybe we can try something no one else has.

The snow crunches under our feet, but it's so well-packed that it barely gives beneath us. Enough footprints already mark this path that ours blend in and are barely distinguishable. The prints remind me of the open paths west and north of here, where my shoes sunk into the mud and each dirt road went untamed and unexplored for years. I never thought I could miss the dead gray grass that broke underneath us, but I do. Compared to this place where we can't even tell which footprints are our own I miss those overgrown paths very much.

I stop and look up at the massive pile of rocks looming over us. I see now why that man suspected foul play –this is clearly no natural landslide. High above us, the part still holding on to the mountain is marred by deep lines where pipes were shoved through the rock. They're the same lines used to clear out the road leading up to Oreburgh Gate, lines that once held powerful explosives.

Scarlet cautiously steps on to the first rock, then bounds her way up until she's several meters above and away from me. Yawning extravagantly and with a certain playfulness in her eyes, she rolls over and shakes her tail in my direction. A lazy, demanding roar slides out of her mouth and I answer it with an equally obnoxious sigh. She wants to play games, but I'm in no mood.

I sit down and lean my back against one of the rocks. Scarlet roars again and I roll my eye even though I know she can't see me. I don't want to mope around, but I'm just too exhausted at this point to do anything else. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time and I'm still having pains from what that stupid Raichu did. Seeing all this has just been too much. I like to pretend I can just ignore all these people, but it really is hard when they're begging for food right in your face. And no, it's not like I have any extra food to give them, but still…

I groan and pull my knees up to my chest. What am I thinking? This is stupid. If I can't help them, if I don't want to help them, I won't and that's the end of it. I just need to swallow back this tiredness and keep moving.

Even if our only choice is to forge a new path through the mountain, well that's what we'll do. Staying in one place too long is going to kill me much faster than any zombie could.

Something warm and wet touches my ear, and in a sudden, heart-stopping panic I whip around and hold out my crowbar to strike. But it's only Scarlet, watching me with playful eyes and shaking her butt in the air. She snarls mischievously and pounces, sinking her teeth into my scarf. "Hey! What're you-?" She pulls it off my neck with surprising ease and bolts up the rocks, stopping a meter or two up and beckoning me to her by growling softly. "Come on, Scarlet! I'm not in the mood for this!"

She ignores me and jumps even further up the landslide. Cursing underneath my breath, I order her to come back down with as much composure as I can muster. She stops and stares at me, her eyes gleaming brightly in the sun. "Scarlet…" I call up in a warning tone. "Get back down here, we need to get going." She cocks her head to the side as if to ask "Where?" I narrow my eye and put one foot on the first rock. "Come on, Scarlet…"

She shakes her tail in the air and looses an alarmingly loud roar. I climb up on to the first rock and hold my arm out. "Give it here." She shakes her head and jumps up and down a bit. Cursing some more, I climb clumsily up so that we're just a few steps apart. "Now," I say simply.

She suddenly leaps for me, crossing the distance between us with incredible ease. I cry out as she slams into me and my back bangs into the hard, uneven stone. Her powerful paws hold me hard against the rocks, my scarf dangling from her teeth and tickling my nose. My backpack digs into my back, and my heart races at the thought of damaged food or supplies. I try and wriggle out from beneath her, but she just smiles a strange, cat-like smile and pushes me down harder. "Damnit, Scarlet! What the hell are you doing?"

She drops the scarf in my face and suddenly bounces off, resting just next to me on the dirty rock. I grasp it and wipe her spit on my pant leg before wrapping it around my neck again. "What was that all about?" She looks up at me and turns her head to the side. Glancing back down and closing her eyes slightly, she gets up to her paws and starts to pace around me. She weaves between my legs, pressing her soft body to mine. Sparks move from her to me, and I shiver as a faint shock jolts up my spine.

She stops and faces me again, sitting down hard on the rock. I kneel beside her and gently take her face into my hands. "Everything okay, Scarlet?" She watches me blankly for a second before hitting my chest lightly with her paw. "Your chest hurts?" I honestly have no idea what she wants, and she isn't being particularly helpful.

She shakes her big, fluffy head furiously, then shoves it into me. "Ah, uh, what are you doing?" She looks up and licks my face, then goes back to rubbing herself against me. I feel her purring, and reach out tentatively to run my fingers through her fur.

Her tail lightly touches my pocket holding all of our team mates, and she jumps back suddenly, still pointing at them. "I really don't think this is the time, Scarlet…" She looks away dejectedly, her pale eyes filling with sadness. They shine; big, wide, and bright with the sting of rejection.

Damn it.

Giving in completely, I reach into my pocket and let our team mates out to play. Lenny comes out first, struggling to get his balance on the uneven ground. But as soon as he spots me he slips over, sliding into my lap and flattening out. I lightly put my hand on his head, and he giggles with happiness.

Marley and Dracula are next. Dracula tries to fly but Marley stops her by holding out a gentle arm. She looks at it, then up to him. Her face fills with joy, and I realize that this is the first time she's seen him since he evolved. She starts to embrace him, and he condenses into a tiny ball so she doesn't have to move her wing very much. He coos and smiles while she holds him, unleashing a tiny burst of dark, harmless gas into the air.

Dracula spots Lenny, Scarlet and I. She toddles over the uneven rocks with Marley still tucked in her arm, then sits tentatively beside us. Marley bursts out of her grip to float above us all, looking down on the city spread out below.

I put a careful, gentle arm around my old friend and she rubs her face on me, smiling happily. Lenny grins widely and makes a weird "skuuue!" noise, his head popping out from the rest of his blob-like form to lick Dracula rick over her face. She smiles sheepishly at him and rubs her nose against his, making him cry out again in happiness.

Elizabeth appears right in my lap, materializing in the middle of Lenny's goo. I instantly start to panic, worried that she might be hurting him, but he just laughs loudly like he's being tickled and reforms himself so they can sit beside each other. She looks at him with wide, child-like eyes and claps because she doesn't know what else to do. He claps in response, and she seems to like it. They go back and forth with their clapping until she falls over into me in a giggling mess, shaking and shivering with more happiness than she seems to know what to do with.

Scout puts her paws out behind her and leans comfortably on them, sitting beside me and not making a sound. I look over to make sure she's alright and catch her eye. She stares at me vacantly for a moment before a tiny smile breaks across her face. Her tail curls around over her legs, lending our little group extra warmth against the cold winter breeze.

After a little while she leans on me too, her brace scratching over the hard rocky ground. It takes her an extra moment to find the most comfortable position for it, and as soon as she does I notice her eyelids start to droop and a deep yawn roll through her small, broken body.


	45. Chapter Forty Four

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: TERRITORIAL THINGS

I step back, my feet slipping over the stained snow. Throwing my arm out to keep my balance, my shoes catch on the ground and I straighten up. My heart pounds in my ear, fear pulsing through my veins. Scarlet stands beside me with her muscles flexed and her legs ready to propel her into battle. She snarls and her eyes widen with fury, jaws snapping loudly. Electricity races up and down her dark form, her tail snapping back and forth in the air.

The massive Pokémon leans toward us and unleashes a terrifying roar that shakes me down to my bones. I fall onto my ass and Scarlet scrambles backward from the sheer force of the sound. Spit flings into my face and I blink rapidly to keep it out of my eye. The rusted fence surrounding the Pokémon shivers and creaks as it presses its body against the dull metal.

Scarlet roars back, but the Head Butt Pokémon is hardly intimidated. I struggle back to my feet and hold my crowbar between both of my shaking hands, poised to strike. The beast opens its massive mouth wide enough to see down its throat, and I look away in disgust. It has several rows of sharp, small teeth leading far back behind its tongue. They don't look big enough to rip me apart, but I still don't feel like getting close enough to find out.

Now it's leaning so far over its fence that the groaning metal is starting to give, tearing up out of the ground and snapping in several places. Scarlet stops her growling to shoot me a terrified glance, and I nod quickly at her in response. She bolts off, sprinting back toward the town and as far away from the enraged rock-type fast as she can. I run hard to keep up with her, and for the first fifty meters or so I'm alright. Then a jolt of pain shoots through my spine and my legs give out, forcing me painfully to the dirty ground.

I turn over quickly to see the Rampardos charging toward me, much faster than I can escape. I try to get back up to my feet, but the ground is too slippery and I fall onto my side. A deep, ear-splitting roar tears through me and I flinch away, holding my crowbar out in a vain effort to protect myself.

The ground shakes and I suddenly feel its hot breath on my face. Instinct kicks in and I hold my weapon out with both hands, catching the beast between its jaws as it lunges for me. Spit and heat cover me and I gag on the Pokémon's rancid breath, putting every effort into holding the beast back.

It screams in my face and every one of my hairs stands on end. My arms begin to fail me as the weight becomes too much, pain bursting through the muscle and bone to erupt in my shoulders. I cry out and the jaws overwhelm me, surrounding my face and blocking out the sun.

But for one precious second it slackens, as if distracted by something. Seizing my chance, I roll out from beneath it and get clumsily to my feet. I hear Scarlet roar again, and the Rampardos redirects its attention to her. It growls back, towering over her but leaning down so it can get right in her face.

Sparks flood out from her body and send the Pokémon tumbling backward to land heavily in the snow. She runs at him and roars, readying another charge. I fumble for a PokeBall at my waist, wondering for a brief moment if the six-per person rule still applies.

The Rampardos swings its tail toward her, raising a volley of rocks out of the ground and slamming them into her small body. They knock her back so hard that she stops moving, skidding in the snow and coming to rest only when she hits another boulder jutting out of the ground. My heart skips a beat, my entire body freezing up. I call out her name, not caring if it attracts the Rampardos's attention.

Her tail flicks angrily and she wrenches herself back onto her paws. Her eyes glow with rage and I can see her charging power from here. She roars again, proud and furious. As she races for the rock-type again, I hurl the PokeBall into the air toward the beast. A huge burst of electricity surges out of her body and wraps the Head Butt Pokémon in bright light, making him cry out in agony.

The PokeBall hits him and lands harmlessly to the ground, just like I feared. Either he's owned by some trainer who can't be bothered to actually watch him, or the capture mechanism still doesn't work if I have six Pokémon on me.

Scarlet is pacing backward now, keeping her eyes nailed to the huge, heaving beast. It's really pissed off now, shaking its tail back and forth and shivering violently. I look around, desperate for another way to contain him.

The PokeBall starts to shiver and shoot back into my hand. I pocket it and switch it for another, one that already has someone in it. The Rampardos is just standing there, staring the Luxio down with large, intense eyes. She's holding her own, but I'm too scared to let her take much more of this by herself.

I press the button down twice on the PokeBall and throw it, bright light shooting from it and pooling onto the ground. Lenny looks up at me happily and slides over to my feet, rubbing his face against my legs. Keeping a careful watch on Scarlet, I get down on one knee beside the little water-type and look him straight in the eyes. "This is your chance to shine, think you can do it?" He looks confused, but nods vigorously anyway. I point to the Rampardos with my crowbar and put my empty hand on the back of Lenny's head. "I need you to hit that big guy with a blast of water, for as long as possible. I'll be right beside you, so don't worry about getting hurt. I promise I won't let him get too close." He looks down nervously and then nods again, his entire body jiggling. "Good." I exhale, standing slowly.

The Rampardos takes a few steps back from Scarlet, leaning down and pointing its rocky head toward her. She stops her pretense of confidence and sits back on her hunches, holding one paw off the ground in fear. I can hear her snarling, but she's visibly scared. Lenny glances up to me and I gesture for him to follow. We move several meters closer to the Rampardos, catching Scarlet's now-terrified eyes. Lenny squeaks and I put my finger over my lips to silence him. He flattens slightly and shivers, his eyes watering.

"Now," I order simply. Lenny pops up and takes a deep breath, letting loose a small stream of water into the rock-type's back. He turns suddenly and roars, charging toward us with his head bowed and shining with power. Scarlet runs just behind him, racing to get ahead and stop him.

"Come on, Lenny, we need more!" He looks up at me, petrified, and my chest stings. I'm asking a lot of him right now, but he's the only one who can do this. I smile and nod reassuringly, which doesn't seem to do much for him but at least makes me feel better. Lenny's stream intensifies and the Rampardos begins to slow, hampered even further by Scarlet's torrent of electricity flowing through him.

The Head Butt Pokémon begins to slip, and I focus carefully on his legs, moving my head back and forth to adjust my depth perception. Holding my arm back for a second to get some momentum going, I pitch my crowbar as hard as I can at the Rampardos's right leg. He falls over completely to his side, roaring angrily as he slides toward us. Lenny panics and stops his stream, sliding behind me as fast he can and flattening into the ground. I scramble backward to avoid getting hit, but lose my balance and barely miss Lenny's little pool of himself.

Dust bursts into my face and I cough a few times, covering my mouth. Scarlet trots over to me with my crowbar in her jaws, as confident as ever and with a spring of victory in her step. Lenny forms again beside us and stares at our job well done, eyes wide. He body jiggles again and he suddenly starts to sob, big watery globs dripping from his eyes. I hold him close to me and run my fingers over his back, smiling and assuring him that he did great.

The Rampardos moves slightly, then gives up and goes limp before us. Panting, I run one hand over my face and shake my head quickly. A strange feeling washes over me, and I stick my neck up to look around and see what the matter is.

We seemed to gather a crowd during our battle. The same ragged people who begged me for food or water in the city are standing around us, eyes wide. They have mangy Pokémon with them, mostly younger evolutions with tiny waists and dirty fur. One small child starts to cheer, clapping and hooting loudly. His mother tries to shush him but he just gets louder, jumping up and down with his tired-looking Burmy bouncing around beside him.

Soon enough more people are clapping and cheering, keeping a safe distance but watching us closely for our next trick. Lenny clings to me and I squeeze him to my side, while Scarlet climbs atop the Rampardos and basks in the momentary fame. She struts back and forth whiles the giant Pokémon grumbles quietly.

Careful so as not to get myself hurt any more than I already am, I stand slowly to my feet and take in the small crowd before me. There are no more than thirty or so of them, all clustered together against the cold and cheering loudly. There's obviously something going on here that I don't understand, and I'm not happy we attracted the attention. Now that they know we can take care of ourselves, they'll probably assume we have food, water, and medical supplies with us. Being known in a place like this has no benefits unless I feel like getting robbed.

Suddenly the crowd begins to quiet, and several of them stop altogether and retreat back into the city. They whisper and point, gradually dispersing. At first I think maybe Lenny's thrown up on himself, but it quickly becomes clear that they aren't leaving because of us.

"Why? Just why?" I turn around to see a red-headed man with thick glasses and what looks to be an ore-mining suit on. I think the Pokémon hovering beside him is a Probopass, looking fairly indifferent to everything. "Did you enjoy the fifteen seconds of fame you got for hurting one of my team mates? 'Cause this was just…this is excessive."

"This is _your_ Rampardos?" Lenny squishes against me, his body turning into ooze again and slipping lazily down my side. "It attacked us! We just wanted to see what the lab was all about, and it freaking broke out of your shitty fence and charged us down. If we didn't fight back, we would've been killed."

"You broke the fence, too?" He groans and rubs his face beneath his glasses. I've definitely met him somewhere, but for now it's escaping me and frankly I'm too pissed off to care. "I have no idea how we're going to fix that…and what am I supposed to do about Barney? Look how miserable he is!" He gestures to the massive Rampardos lying on its side, flicking its tail lazily.

"You named your Rampardos Barney?"

He sighs and folds his arms across his chest. "Just go somewhere else. I don't even care if you stay in the city, just please don't come over here again. You'll make Barney sad." The Rampardos looks over at his trainer with wet, pathetic eyes. "Just look at him, he doesn't deserve this…" He walks past me and takes the rock-types face into his hands, smiling slightly. "It's okay, Barn. We'll get you fixed up alright. Don't worry about anything, I'll make sure this big asshole never gives you trouble again."

"He started it…" I explain weakly, not sure what else to tell him. He gives me an exasperated look over his Pokémon's heaving side, and suddenly it clicks. I know exactly where I've seen him. "Hey, you –you're Roark!" He raises one eyebrow but doesn't say anything. "You're the gym leader here. I fought you; you're the only gym leader I fought before the outbreak. I just- I can't believe you're still here!"

"We had a battle? I think I'd recognize a face like that," he says skeptically, putting one elbow on his Rampardos and leaning his face in his hand.

"Well, I didn't have the scars-"

"And why would you think I wouldn't still be here? It's a leader's duty to stay with his city. A captain goes down with his boat and all that. I mean, I don't stay in the city; I'd be dead if I did that but…us gym leaders are pretty hardy. We're trained to put up with a lot of shit, and we're morally obligated to stay when our city's in trouble." He straightens again, a spark of interest lighting in his eyes. "Why? What have you heard?"

For a second I'm not sure if I should tell him about Volkner. There's a strange hint in his tone that's making me nervous. But I don't owe any actual loyalty to Volkner –it's not like he swore me to secrecy on anything. "I saw Volkner in Jubilife. He said the League didn't care what happened to the gym leaders and…uh…something about half of you being dead."

He walks around his Rampardos slowly, his fingers trailing over its scaly skin. "Volkner?" He looks back down, his eyebrow pinched together in confusion and concern. "I…why don't you come back to the lab for a bit? I think we have a lot to talk about."

"Will there be food there?"

"Freaking…yes, we have some dried rice."

"Alright, then." He watches me carefully for another long moment before turning around and gesturing off into the distance.

"It's this way." He pulls a PokeBall out of his pocket and points it at Rampardos, ordering him to return. Scarlet looks up at me and I nod to her. Lenny squirms in my grasp and I let him down to the ground. He sticks his head toward his PokeBall and I call him back, looking away as he vanishes into the light. Scarlet pads beside me, her eyes glued on the Gym Leader.

I can see the lab in the distance, its glass shining brightly in the afternoon light. It gives off a strange sense of foreboding, but beckons me to it at the same time. I swallow hard, blinking away the exhaustion and quelling the hunger pains tearing at my empty stomach.


	46. Chapter Forty Five

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: RHETORICAL QUESTIONS

A tall, thin woman with light brown hair and dark eyes leans back in the chair across from me, sipping her glass of water like it's fine wine. Ragged scars cover her face, slicing through her nose and eyebrows. She's propped her feet up on the table and crossed her black combat boots over each other, putting her head to the side so she can make uncomfortably severe eye contact with me.

I shift my weight and the chair squeaks loudly, causing her to raise her eyebrows and crack a slight smile. My hands are sitting awkwardly in my lap because I don't know what else to do with them; she's staring at me so hard I'm having trouble thinking straight.

I jump when Roark slams his glass down on the table. The brunette looks up at him with that same strange grin. "What's got your panties in a knot?"

Roark slides into the chair beside her and scoots close to the table so he can put his elbows down on the wood. He gives the woman an exasperated look and sighs. "Did you see what happened?"

"Barney overreacted again and made you nervous? Yeah, it was kind of hard to miss a giant rampaging dinosaur outside our window."

Roark narrows his eyes and then shakes his head, trying to hide his smile. The woman chuckles softly and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Roark sits back hard in his chair and pushes his hand through his dark red hair. "I wouldn't have described it like that, but I guess you're the expert." She nods a bit and hits him on the shoulder, her eyes glued to her drink. Roark shakes his head again and looks up at me, mischievousness sparkling in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't properly introduce myself. You said you knew who I was, so I don't think it's a big deal, but for formality's sake," he sticks his right arm out across the table, palm facing up. I grasp his wrist, a gesture I'm barely familiar with. I've seen it exchanged enough on TV that I know what to do, but it's very rare that people my age are extended such an honor. "My name is Roark Henrikson, leader of the Oreburgh City Gym."

"Jay Mallory," I say, and we move our linked hands up and down once before letting go of each other.

The brown-haired woman extends her left hand to me, which I think might be a sign of disrespect. She smiles coyly and holds up her opposite arm, revealing a stump wrapped in black fabric. I nod in understanding and cross hands with her. "Is it alright?"

She squeezes my wrist. "Is your eye alright?" I can't help but smile, feeling the tension among the three of us gradually vanishing. Something like a spark passes between us and I realize I quite like her. "Name's Kitty Shiosal, former Almia Top Ranger."

"Wow, really? I've never met a Pokémon Ranger," I'm immediately interested; what is someone from Almia doing up here?

She leans forward, planting her right elbow on the table and putting her chin on the stump. "We were a dying breed, I can assure you. Can't say I know what's become of us now; guess I haven't had much contact with other Rangers in a couple years." Her voice is deep and somewhat gravelly, but still soft like velvet being dragged over a bed of rocks. "And would you mind letting go of my wrist? It's getting sweaty in there."

"Oh, sure." I put my hand into my lap and sit back in my chair. "What are you doing up here?" Roark looks a bit impatient and sucks in a sharp breath to speak, but Kitty waves her hand to keep him quiet.

She leans across the table toward me, her scars casting dark shadows over her face. "I actually came up here before the outbreak to investigate some strange happenings in Celestic Town. I don't think your government really wanted me here, but I guess it was too big of a deal to keep me out. They said the Pokémon near the shrine were acting strange. Like, crazy strange. Attacking people randomly and not having any recollection of it moments later. But while I was there I got reports of even more bizarre behavior at the three lakes. Waves, huge tidal shifts that, obviously, should never happen at a lake. The Pokémon there were understandable disturbed, so I headed to Lake Verity while a few of my colleagues were sent to Valor and Acuity, and one stayed in Celestic to cover for me. Unfortunately," she pauses, and I'm not sure if she's having trouble talking about it or just wants some dramatic effect; her face is too obscured by the poor lighting to tell. "The Outbreak happened very suddenly. Everything was quiet, then boom. Complete insanity everywhere. Now, I knew there was a pandemic going around, and that it was definitely killing a lot of people, but life-threatening situations are nothing new for a Top Ranger. I just wasn't prepared for what happened next-"

"Alright, this is great, and I hate to interrupt your awesomely rehearsed monologue, but I have some legitimate questions to ask this kid, and I'd like if maybe we could, uh, focus?" She shoots him a sharp glare and he holds up his arms in defense. "Sorry, if you really want you can go on."

"Haha, no, it's fine." She sits back and lays one arm over Roark's shoulders. He smiles slightly at her and rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "Do what you have to do."

"Right, okay," He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and holds it on his shoulder. His eyes flick up to mine behind his shining glasses, suddenly serious. "We'll start with what you did to Barney."

"Oh, come on. Didn't you settle this?" Kitty asks, leaning forward to get right in his face.

"Yeah, but…I don't know, I just don't want to let it go."

"You have to, Barney's fine. There's no way Jay could have known Rampardos were so territorial. The only thing hurt is his pride."

Roark chews on his lip, breaking his serious air once again. "Okay…well, what were you doing over here, then?" He looks back at Kitty, who's smiling amusedly.

"Uh, well, I came to Oreburgh because I'm trying to collect the Gym Badges." Kitty snorts but Roark shushes her. "I already had the Mine Badge from before, but I figured this was the only way through to the other side of Mt. Coronet." Sighing, I lower my gaze to my hands, resting open on my legs. "Guess that's not true, is it?"

Roark's chair creaks and I flick my eye back up to him. He sighs and entangles his fingers together on the table. "No, it's not. Why do you want the badges? They're completely useless now; they won't even work as bartering pieces."

"It's-I'm…I'm doing it for a friend." My hands clench into fists and I swallow bile rising to my throat. "Sorry, I guess it's kinda personal."

He bobs his head up and down quickly in understanding. "Of course. You don't have to answer that, really. I was just curious because it seems like kind of an odd thing to do." I shrug and he waits a moment before continuing. "So…you said you saw Volkner. What was he doing in Jubilife?" His chair creaks and I notice Kitty's smile has disappeared. The atmosphere in the room changes very abruptly, and I feel my heart race.

"I-I have no idea. He actually didn't tell me. I was really hurt at the time, and he stitched my face back together. I guess it just didn't occur to me that he wasn't where he should be. But I remember he got angry pretty easily; he freaked out because I said the Gym Leaders probably had it easy, or something. I don't remember very well, it was a while ago."

Roark's chewing on the inside of cheek, examining the table closely. "I just don't understand why he was there…we haven't had contact with anyone besides Gardenia for years. And even she's gone quiet now. If Volkner was in Jubilife, why didn't he make contact with us? I mean, we were never the best of friends, but as a Leader it was his duty to…" He shakes his head, visibly frustrated. "It just doesn't make any sense!" Kitty's eyes narrow at him and she starts to lean away. "We're supposed to work together to protect the people. Not contacting us was in direct violation with his promise as a Gym Leader." He sits back and crosses his arms, letting out a burst of angry air. "He's always been irresponsible; I shouldn't be surprised. Abandoning his city…why should I expect any more from him?"

"Don't assume things. Jay only said Volkner didn't give a reason for being in Jubilife. We don't know the circumstances; maybe there _isn't_ a Sunyshore anymore." He shakes his head and she sighs exasperatedly. "I don't know either, Roark." Kitty looks over at me and nods. "Go on, there must be more."

"There isn't, not really. Well, I did meet a member of Interpol but-"

Kitty and Roark's faces both light up. "Interpol?" Kitty asks, eyes wide but doubtful.

"That means…" Roark starts. Kitty holds out her stump to quiet him and Roark holds it lightly, biting the nail of his pinky finger in concentration.

"Yeah, he said his name was Looker and he was hard to understand. He…he said the government wasn't letting Interpol officers or investigators in, and I think he mentioned being the first one to get access to the inside."

Roark breathes deeply and rubs both hands over his face. He presses his elbows into the table and pushes his fingertips into his eyes beneath his glasses. "I…I don't know how to get around this."

Kitty shoots him a startled glance, pushing away from him and making her chair squeal over the dark wood floor. "What are you talking about?"

He clasps his hands together and leans on them, now focused entirely on her. "I just…he knows so much already. I figure we might as well tell him what we think we know."

"Roark, I-" She starts to protest, then stops and looks down, glaring at the table in concentration. "Hm…yeah, I-I guess we might as well."

There's probably a lot about all this that I don't know. I've never tried to look deeper than the surface, never cared to figure out anything beyond how to keep myself alive. Until now, I've never wanted to. But I know this could very well be my one chance, that Roark and Kitty could be far better-informed than I am about any of this. The zombies, the government, the chaos in the city…it's only now that I realize I really have no idea why any of this is going on.

Roark and Kitty begin to speak at once, but he stops and gestures for her to go ahead. "Well…you see, we've been here for a long time –Roark, especially- and, well, there are a few things we've noticed that just aren't right about all of this. Obviously the very inconveniently placed landslides here and at Eterna, but…plenty of other things don't seem to fit either. Like, why can't we carry more than six Pokémon with us if this entire society has broken down? Why do PokeBalls work at all? And why do the undead keep coming? Eventually Sinnoh, as a nation, should have been able to eradicate most of them. They had one of the most well-funded armies in the world, how is it possible that they can't take out a bunch of mindless zombies? And after four years things are hardly any better! You've been on the road; you know how often they attack. They just keep coming and coming, much faster than regular Pokémon can reproduce. They should have run out of food to eat long ago, especially if there are so many of them."

Roark starts now, picking up as soon as she pauses long enough for him to step in. "We've lost all contact with the west side of Sinnoh. Our radios don't work, any Pokémon we send out with messages vanish completely. If there were some massive calamity on the other side of the country, we should have heard about it. This…this just doesn't make any sense." He stops and looks hard at me, eyes narrowed. "Do you know what I'm getting at?"

I shake my head slowly, and Roark takes a deep breath.

"We believe we're being held here, on the east side of Mt. Coronet, by our own government. They've got us locked in a quarantine we were never told about. We think they're trying to shut us off from the rest of the country, depriving us of vital supplies and waiting for us all to starve." I try to interrupt, but he keeps going. "Just look at it! Look at this from an outsider's point of view! How could we naturally end up like this after four years? This…this just doesn't make sense the way it is. And don't try and say the League wouldn't do this, because you know as well as I do that they very well would." Kitty gives him a reassuring look and he calms down, exhaling loudly. "Sorry, I just…that's just what we think is going on. Things are…probably much worse than you can imagine."

My palms are sweating, and a wave of exhaustion sweeps through me. My head aches and I'm feeling nauseas again, so I hang my head in my hands and scoot back from the table. "I…I need some time to think about all this."

"Of course," Roark says, slowly rising from his chair. "I can get you anything you need; I didn't mean to just unload on you like that." Kitty starts to follow him, subtly entwining her fingers with his. "Seriously, anything you need, just say the word, okay?"

I open my mouth to ask for some water, but every thought is interrupted when the door slams against the wall and a familiar, thin form steps through the entryway. Bright orange light shines behind her, outlining her well-covered body and making her short black hair gleam. A long sword, dirty but still flickering brilliantly in the setting sun, hangs limply from her right hand.

"I caught another one sneaking around out back," she says as she walks in, wiping her heavy brown boots on the carpet and sliding her sword into its sheath. "Little bastards are going to get themselves killed one…of these…days." She stops when she sees me, her eyes widening. "No way..."

I get up and take a careful step toward her, blinking several times to make sure I know what I'm seeing. "Dawn?"


	47. Chapter Forty Six

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: ANSWERS

She stares at me, standing with her feet together and wringing her dirty black scarf in her gloved hands. She's wearing a much heavier coat than I remember her owning, and her backpack is dark brown instead of bright pink. "Jay? You look so…" Her eyes flick to the side, then back to me. "How did you get here?" Her hair is shorter too, cutting off about a centimeter or two above her shoulders. It's thin and most of it is pulled back out of her face.

The floor creaks loudly. "I walked. Up through to Floaroma, then Eterna, and then south to here."

She sticks her left shoe up against the back of the other and wrenches her foot free. She does the same with her right, and then kicks them both to the side. They tumble loudly in the heavy silence. Her feet are small and quiet on the floorboards, her socks well-stained and covered in holes. She blinks several times in the dark, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

She's close enough now that I can see little scratches and markings all over her face, illuminated by the minimal light. I flinch slightly when she reaches toward my face, her fingertips lightly touching a ridge of my scars. "What happened?" She asks, her voice louder and stronger than I expected it to be.

"A lot," I don't know how to tell her everything that's gone on. It seems like I haven't seen her for years, though it's hardly been three months since I left Sandgem.

For a second she stands there studying my scars, eyes narrowed in concentration. "This looks bad. I'm so sorry…" Her face hardens and she shakes her head so slightly I wonder if I imagined it. Her hand drops to her side and she looks down. "We made a mistake by letting you go off on your own. I wish things …hadn't turned out like this."

I feel something warm against my leg, and hear Scarlet's soft paw steps padding over the floor. She's been silent for a while now, but seems to have taken an interest in who I'm speaking with. Dawn looks down and watches the Luxio carefully, her eyes sparkling in the dark. Scarlet circles the girl, tail flicking back and forth. She pauses just in front of her and sniffs Dawn's sock-covered feet, recoiling almost instantly at the smell.

Dawn cracks a small smile, "Not very pleasant, huh?" Scarlet looks up and begins to back away, snarling a bit under her breath. "Who is this?" Dawn asks, still watching Scarlet with distant eyes.

Scarlet turns to me and I kneel down so I can brush her thin mane with my hand. She purrs and rubs her face against mine, but her breath smells so terrible I have to turn so she isn't breathing right into my nose. "Her name's Scarlet. She joined me in Jubilife, completely of her own accord. I actually managed to find a decent amount of Pokémon; I have a full team, in fact."

Dawn raises an eyebrow and I straighten up so we're on the same level again. "That's strange…I've found quite a few as well. It's almost like Pokémon have been attracted to me." She pauses, her face falling and suspicion flashing in her dark eyes. "Where's Scout?"

"Uh…" Scarlet lies at my feet, one paw crossed over the other with her tail swishing over the floor. "It's a long story." I play with a piece of string coming off my pant leg, twirling it around my finger over and over.

"What happened to her?" Her tone has changed. The shift is smooth and immediate, her voice rising and her eyes gleaming with rage so suddenly my heart skips a beat.

A chair squeals loudly behind me and I start, whipping around. Roark clears his throat and slams his glass down on the table just like he did before. "Obviously you two know each other. Uh…friends? Rivals? What's going on here?"

Dawn steps around me while reaching deep into her pocket. Kitty nods to her and Dawn stands next to the older woman, placing both hands hard on the table. One of them holds tightly to a dirt-stained PokeBall, pressing it into the wood. "Old friends. He was the one I told you about. The one who left."

I don't like how she says that; I'm instantly nervous. She sounds almost accusatory; as if it's my fault she's been hurt.

Roark nods faintly in understanding, leaning his chin on his crossed hands. "I understand now. Wow, what a coincidence."

"I'll say," Dawn mumbles so quietly I almost miss it.

"I…I don't actually. What are you talking about? What happened?" I'm speaking louder than I usually do, but I'm pissed off. How can she be angry with me when I haven't seen her for months? And all this stalling is ridiculous. "Just come out and say it."

Dawn narrows her eyes and I catch her tighten her grip on the PokeBall, her knuckles turning white. "It's a long story." There's venom in her tone; she's spitting my own words right back at me. I can feel my blood boiling, heat rising to my face.

Kitty and Roark stand up at once. Her words are harsh, but Kitty's tone is even and carefully measured. "That's enough. This is retarded; you're not even arguing about anything. Go outside and settle this, we're not your Arceus-damned parents and we're not going to deal with any petty shit."

Dawn's gaze flicks down to her fingers and, after a second of hesitation, she nods. "That would be smart, yeah." She lets out a heavy breath and looks back at me, her expression hard as ever. "Come on, we'll just go right outside the door. It's getting dark, but I think we'll be fine."

At first I don't follow her, but I realize she's leaving whether I go or not. Even if I think she's being really dumb about this, I might as well get some answers.

The city babbles faintly, the mingled voices creating a distant cacophony in the usually silent twilight. A breeze blows a stray leaf across the ground, bringing it to rest at my feet. The cold claws at my face, stinging my eye and burning my nose. My fingers already feel numb and stiff, refusing to flex without sending a shot of pain up my arm.

Dawn leans against the wall with her hands shoved deep inside her jacket pockets. Her black hair shines in the weak orange light, the greasy strands gleaming faintly. At her feet sits a yawning Grotle. His leaves shiver and shake with the wind to create a soft rustling sound. Scarlet is curled into a tight, aggravated ball beside the grass-type, her head buried deep in her own fur.

"The Professor died not long after you left. We couldn't have known he'd been suffering for so long…there was nothing we could do to help. We tried of course, but the basic first-aid he taught us was hardly enough to save him. We found the softest patch of ground and dug as deep as we could. I'm sure it wasn't enough, because the next morning…the next morning all the dirt was torn up and there was only a skeleton. Leo was beside himself the whole time, and I think without Tinkerbell he wouldn't have been able to go on.

"I guess you did that right. He was reluctant to take care of her at first, but she grew on him and they got really attached to each other. It was good for him, and I think she needed it too. As time passed she got stronger, to the point that she was actually useful against the horde. Grotle wasn't a fan either, initially, but like Leo he came to really like her and see her as an important part of us.

"Even…even with her though, I could tell Leo was done. He was broken. He'd lost his starter, his best friend, and the man who raised him for the past four years. He thought you were dead, and when we saw that fire we both assumed the worst. I tried to comfort him as best I could, but the more time passed the more he resented me and everything else….It-it hurt to watch him turn into that. I never could have thought he would bare the pain so heavily.

"But…I still don't understand why he joined them. I mean, they were so manipulative and clever I guess I shouldn't be that surprised, but still…the thought of Leo falling in with a cult is…it's impossible. They swept him up so easily too, like they knew exactly what he wanted before he even opened his mouth. They called themselves 'The Church of Galactic,' or something. They were all about a new world, and justice, and having faith in their leader as some sort of medium between gods and men. I've never been inclined to believe in gods, but the way they spoke –with such power and confidence- for one second I think I might have believed their load of shit.

"Leo was smitten with them. He hated his own life so much that by that point he was willing to believe in anything that promised to make a change for him. He turned against the people he thought were dead, and, despite everything he had _always_ said, he started to accept their ridiculous ideas about race and who deserves what. And…and that was where I had to draw the line.

"I planned on staying with them to get the free food and shelter, but…I could never get past this strange sensation of being…judged constantly. I tried to tell Leo but he wouldn't listen to me. They tried to tell me that only the survivors deserve a new world, and that this whole outbreak has been a test by the gods to see who was fit to enter their kingdom. I…I couldn't buy that, Jay. I didn't believe that there could be a new world that was too good for the professor. I couldn't accept that they didn't think him worthy of something. But Leo…I think he was just too far gone to care anymore.

"So he left with them. Grotle and I watched him walk off towards Jubilife in a big singing crowd, looking happy for the first time in weeks. And I thought maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe I was making a mistake for not following them. But…I knew anyone, any group, that could believe one section of people could be fundamentally better than another was just…wrong, I don't know, it set off some serious red flags.

"I was so scared, Jay. And…and I know it isn't really your fault. I know why you left and I wish I went with you. But I-I can't help but hate you a little for not being there when we all needed you. We were a family, Jay…we'd worked together, gotten through so much for so long…but after you left it was over. You abandoned us to fend for ourselves, ignoring the fact that we've always needed you. W-without you we fell apart.

"After Leo left, I knew Grotle and I had to go as well. It was so hard to leave that place. We grew up there, in our own little fort, fighting monsters and trying to carve out a life that wasn't as miserable as it had to be. But it was over. And…and as we travelled from Sandgem, to Jubilife, and through Oreburgh Gate we…we learned that things weren't going to get any better. Even if all the undead are gone, we are left with nothing. Eventually things will be different, sure, but they will never get any better."

She sighs heavily, letting loose hair fly over her face. It's become bitterly cold, and my fingers are past the point of hurting. My entire body feels frozen, and I wish I could just stand here and freeze forever.

But instead I take a step toward Dawn and pull her tightly into my arms. Her jacket rustles and I squeeze her tightly. She doesn't respond at first, but after a second or two she wraps her arms around my neck and leans her head on my chest.

We stay like this for a while, unable to move because it's just too damn cold. The wind cuts through my clothes with ease, raising painful bumps all over my body.

I tell her about as much as I can. The eye is easy to explain, but I find myself at a loss for words when I have to tell her about Cheryl. But Dawn just stands there, quietly shivering and patiently waiting for me to get my thoughts straight.

Even after we talk about it, even after I explain to her what my goal is and why I'm in Oreburgh at all, I hardly feel any better. My chest still burns with anger and a powerful desire for vengeance.

"Revenge?" She asks quietly, and I interrupt before she can continue.

"Don't give me the speech; I already know and I don't care."

"What speech?" She asks innocently, as if she genuinely doesn't know.

"The 'revenge' speech. Don't tell me not to fight violence with violence. Don't tell me to forsake my goal for something that won't result in 'an endless cycle' or some shit. Because I don't care. I know this is what she would want, and I would go to the end of the world for her."

She raises her eyebrows and smiles a bit. "Why would I say that? I think as long as you know what you're doing you'll be fine. You have to do things for yourself, and I think if you know and accept the consequences you should go ahead and do what you feel is right. I'm more concerned about you staying alive; if this girl almost killed you before, what makes you think she won't finish the job now?"

I clench my fists tightly within my pockets and grit my teeth against the pain. "Because I have a plan."

"A plan?" A detect a condescending note in her voice but I choose to ignore it. "What sort of plan?"

"The 'train forever and then kill her with all guns blazing' plan." She snorts and I roll my eye. "Oh come on, you never even met her! How can you think she'll best me if you haven't seen us fight? Besides, she took me by surprise last time. Now that I know she fights dirty I'll have a better idea of how to kill her."

She pushes off from the wall and Grotle immediately sits up, watching his trainer with big black eyes. "Well, then, if you say she had a Raichu, why not evolve Lenny so you have a ground-type? You'll have a better chance with a type advantage over the only Pokémon it sounds like she has." She yanks open the door and gasps with pleasure as a burst of heat flies out at her. "I'll help you, but we'll start tomorrow." Scarlet bounds inside without a single thought. Dawn holds the door open with one trembling arm, and I thank her as I step through the entryway.


	48. Chapter Forty Seven

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is fairly gory in that it goes into some mildly nasty details. While not anything that will make you vomit, you may not want to eat while reading this chapter. It's up to you, and in my opinion it's not that bad, but I just figured I might as well leave this warning to let you all know.**

**Please send in some questions for the Character Q&A! Remember, questions can be about any topic and can be directed to any currently living character. Thank you so much for reading!**

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: PROCEDURE

I always hated the old hospital. It should have been renovated years before but we never had the money to fix it. The roof was crumbling and the hallways were dark with lights that flickered spastically. We used to use it only as a mental institution, but with time it evolved into one of the few human-only hospitals left in Sinnoh. If I didn't need to be there, I wouldn't be. Sick people made me feel sick, and the sharp clinical smells got my heart racing.

But I'd been brought in per special request. Gym Leader business, apparently. They made sure I was wearing the most advanced containment suit we had, with an air filtration system that weighed heavily on my back. I knew it was something about the virus, but hardly anything more. I followed the reports and tightened security as needed to protect my city. I was always told Sinnoh was the king of everything from military to medicine, capable of saving the world with the power of our superior blood. Even then I was beginning to lose faith in that.

The head doctor of the hospital bowed when I walked toward him and addressed me as "Sir Gym Leader, sir." His voice crackled through a microphone sitting much too close to his face. He was alone, save for a single secretary hiding behind a bright green containment tarp. He gestured down the hall and made a sweeping motion with his left arm. "We believe this is something you have to see, sir." He kept up a brisk pace beside me, hands hanging heavily at his sides. "We've been studying this particular patient for about two weeks now. He is likely a victim of the PBP-8 virus. When he arrived he had apparently been suffering from a high fever for about twenty-four hours. He also appeared to have a limited grasp of basic language; though his wife assured us he never had trouble in the past." The doctor slowed, looking down at the ground. "Leader Roark, we have done everything in our power to help this man, but at this point we are exhausted of ideas."

A bright green tarp covered the door to a room at the end of the hallway. I bit my lip and glanced at the doctor. He was focused on the room, the thick plastic over his face obscuring his worn features and tired eyes. He slid open the tarp and held it open for me to step inside. I thanked him and walked into a dark, tightly enclosed space with thick inflated walls. Another door waited for us on the opposite end. The doctor closed the first entrance tightly behind him, then turned to me and hesitated. I couldn't see his face in the darkness, but I could sense the tension in the tiny room. I tried to keep calm, but the nervous adrenaline racing through my veins betrayed me.

He exhaled heavily and slid the second door open with careful hands. The zip was deafening in the silence. I could see his body shaking as he raised his arm out, beckoning me to go in first.

There was sweat on my forehead and the back of my neck. My heart raced and my fingers shook. Struggling to look as confident as possible, I stepped over the tarp and into the quiet gray room. A curtain hung over the only bed that seemed to be occupied. Most of the light from outside was blocked by the same type of heavy green tarp as the door.

"Sir, what I am about to show you is …extremely gruesome. You are always free to leave, but, sir, I do honestly believe I am obligated to show you this. The implications are …momentous." I walked forward slowly, my footsteps quiet. The doctor followed and closed the door tightly behind him. "Would you like to see it on your own, or should I be present?"

I would have preferred not to see it at all, but I could never appear weak in front of a civilian. "Thank you doctor, but I believe I would-" my voice cracked and I cleared my throat loudly. It disturbed the silence of the room, echoing off the empty walls. "I will first see the patient alone." He nodded in understanding, his breath heavy in the microphone.

The curtain did not move. There was no wind in here, nothing to stir it. Resisting the urge to look back at the doctor for support, I inhaled deeply and reached out for the curtain. It shook as my heavily gloved fingers grasped tightly to the fabric, wrinkling and giving slightly in my hand.

In one swift motion I tore the curtain to the side. Metal clanged loudly against metal as it flew toward the wall.

The patient lay completely still on the cot. He wore only a thin hospital gown, stained with green markings and visibly wet. Much of his skin was gone, leaving only a waxy film over his body. Large patches of the film produced hives of thick, pus-filled bubbles on his neck and underarms. His legs were covered with dark splotches of green, some intersecting with exposed bone and muscle. I could see exactly how the musculature of his feet intertwined, as well as the complete bone structure of his hands.

Cold steel circles were placed on the insides of his elbows and within his weak skull. Long wires connected them to a strange machine on my right that emitted a quiet but steady hum. A complex series of buttons and switches lined the front of it, some blinking dully. The film grew around the cables, enveloping them in a stiff, shimmering glaze.

Veins lay on the blanket, hanging loosely from where the waxy coating was too watery. Some seemed to have been cut so that the ends were ragged and split. Most of his face was too distorted to be recognizable, with his cheeks completely ripped away to expose an eerily wide smile. His teeth were yellow or black, with the gums decayed into the skull. The cartilage on his nose and ears had been eaten away to leave behind deep, dark holes in his face.

His chest rose and fell so slowly I didn't notice it at first. Then steadily, with a creeping, terrible realization, I saw that he was somehow still alive. The arteries that remained connected seemed plump with fluid, the veins pulsating ever so slightly from the force of diligent valves. Beneath the hospital gown I could see something expanding and contracting very rapidly, desperate to keep him alive. His heart pounded beneath bone and ripped muscle.

In his bright red eyes I saw a strange hunger. They were inflamed and swollen with pus oozing out of the sides. The webbing of his nearly-vanished lids hung low, giving him a perpetual squint. I expected to see pain, a longing for death in those terrible eyes, but instead there was only a glowing, ravenous madness.

He jolted forward very suddenly, and the doctor pushed me aside to get closer. He calmly flipped several switches on the humming machine and pressed a large button on the side. The patient's body begun to convulse, his muscles contracted and for a second he seized up completely. Then he stopped just as abruptly as he began, lying limp as he was before.

The doctor stood at the machine with his hand held over the button. "There is no explanation for his continued survival. We believe this has to do with PBP-8, but cannot confirm that. He showed all the classic symptoms for the virus, and we believe there is a connection because we honestly have no other idea what could be going on. We do not understand how PBP-8 works, as its symptoms are such strange combinations of ailments. The nightmares that seem to have driven him insane were the most striking detail. He told us about them as best he could, and from what we understood they were…unusually vivid. Lucid nightmares are the most obvious symptom of the virus, and he more or less told us he always knew he was dreaming. I told you he had the high fever, and occasional vomiting and diarrhea as well. As his dementia worsened, he began to scream in his sleep. His blood flow is extremely slow, and seemed to clot very quickly when samples were taken. Yet, as far as we know the virus has not been isolated. The name 'PBP-8' only describes a collection of very specific symptoms. It's essentially meaningless. It's only been around for a few months but it's spread so fast…" He stopped and his hand clenched into a fist. "My apologies, sir, I'm rambling."

I couldn't look away from the patient. His still-living body, his starving, empty eyes …he was all at once human and not. I wanted to see the pain in him, some acknowledgement of his condition, but instead there was only savage desire. He looked into me without any emotion but desperation, and I looked at him with little more than fear.

"If this has anything to do with PBP-8…if millions of people are infected with something that will eventually turn them into this…" He shook his head slowly, turning to face me. "Sir, I believe we would have a national emergency on our hands."

I gulped and tore my eyes away from the patient. "We don't know enough to say that." I steadied my voice, trying hard not to stutter or show how nervous I felt. "We aren't even sure what PBP-8 is."

He sighed. The patient watched us vacantly, his smile looking very malevolent in the dark room. "I suppose you're right, sir. But I-I can't get past this. I'm worried, sir. We haven't the slightest idea what the trigger is for this set of symptoms. We have a disease spreading like wildfire throughout the country that we do not understand in the slightest. And this …a man whose own flesh has begun to necrotize, whose mind appears to have abandoned him …he can survive without food or water on an incredibly damaged body. I don't understand, sir. I'm deeply sorry." He turned to me and bowed, holding for an extra second. "We have failed this city."

I watched him straighten slowly in the thick containment suit. It crackled as he moved, and I caught him wince slightly from the effort. "You don't have to bow or apologize, doctor," my voice was soft, careful. "If this is truly the enigma it seems to be I cannot expect you to have all the answers. This…this is deeply worrying to me. Have you spoken with anyone outside of Oreburgh?"

"No, sir-"

"Stop that, it sounds like a verbal tic."

He shifted uncomfortably before continuing. "Sorry sir -er, sorry- sorry Roark. Ah, yes, and it-it's interesting. They reported, obviously, seeing this strain of symptoms repeatedly, but they have yet to see something as extreme as this. That I'm aware of." I nodded slowly, listening intently to his cracking voice over the microphone. "There is something to be said for inter-city competition, though. I suppose it is entirely possible that there is information that I simply have not received because everyone else knows as much as we do. If they don't want to look weak or foolish, they won't tell anyone else of their foolishness. I can neither confirm nor deny that though, so don't take my word for it…."

The patient suddenly lurched for us again and let out a strange moan. His jaw cracked open, revealing a rotted tongue and blackened mouth. The doctor swore and slammed his fist into the button on the side of the machine. The patient shuddered and shook violently, but did not stop moving.

"Oh, Arceus, no…" Terror strangled the doctor's voice. The patient reached toward us, and I instinctually pushed the doctor away. Every exposed muscle was pumping now, shaking with the effort of moving the man's rotting body. His weak arms swung for me and I stepped back, still pushing the doctor away with one steady hand. The patient's feet hit the ground and he started to fall. The doctor took the opportunity to hit the button again, sending powerful jolts of electricity bursting through the man's body.

The scream that tore from his mouth was so human the two of us froze completely. I heard a note of pure, unbridled agony in his voice; it was filled with desperation and pain, with the incredible torment of losing control of his own body.

He collapsed on to his side, shivering violently as tremors overtook him. The doctor and I watched helplessly as he struggled to get a hold of himself. He pushed his broken arms against the ground and moaned before falling flat on to his stomach.

We waited there until he stopped moving completely. His heart still beat and his chest still rose and fell, but his eyes were completely dead. The hunger returned; any trace of humanity he had left was gone.


	49. Chapter Forty Eight

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Second-to-last chapter guys! The Character Q&A is open, so feel free to send in questions of any sort. It'll be open for a while, so if you're seeing this message assume you can still ask questions. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: DROP IN THE WATER

Dawn stands across the snowy field from me, kicking up some dust into the air. She holds a bright blue ring in her gloved right hand, occasionally tossing it up and catching it easily. A breeze blows her dark hair back, the strands dancing in the cold air. Her jacket is thick and loose, inflating behind her and shaking with the wind. Her small frame vanishes inside, making her thin legs look unnatural beneath it. Her sword rests in its shaft at her hip, shuddering slightly. She turns to face me, quickly swiping hair out of her eyes. "Ready?" She calls out, her voice drained by the distance between us.

I look down at Lenny -at his shivering, gelatinous body and wide, excited eyes. Ripples pass through him like circles in a puddle. A long streak breaks through the thin layer of snow stretched out before him. "Well? You ready to go again?" He gives a little bounce and I nod swiftly. "It's farther away this time, so you'll have to give a little more strength." He hops again and I give Dawn a thumbs-up.

She nods and hurls the ring high into the air. I order Lenny to shoot, and he lets loose a powerful stream of water that soars easily over the field and slams into the ring. I tilt my head back and forth to see it flying backward, shrinking into the sky. It stops completely mid-flight, hanging in the air for a moment before returning slowly to Dawn's outstretched hand.

She takes several steps back toward her Kadabra, motioning for him to move away and give her some space. She throws the ring upward again and Lenny hits it just as easily as he did before, sending it hurtling into Kadabra's invisible grasp.

We don't know for sure if training like this will make Lenny evolve. Supposedly this is how we're supposed to train, but in my experience raw practice has never really paid off. Any time my teammates have evolved it's been through their own desire or necessity. I know certain stones or actions can force Pokémon, but overall I don't believe there's much a trainer can do if their partner wants to stay the way she is. I need Lenny's help, and if he doesn't evolve we'll be in trouble when we fight Erin. I don't plan to do anything even resembling a true battle with her, but if we can disable her Raichu it'll be easier to take her down.

Dawn is smaller now, much farther away than she was when we started. I can barely see the blue ring in her hand now, and her Kadabra is a blurry golden splotch. "You up for this one?" Lenny looks apprehensive, squinting and staring hard into the distance. Then he gives a satisfied shudder and I take that as a "yes."

The blue dot leaps into the air, a tiny fleck against the great gray sky. Lenny squeals and sends a burst of water shooting out. He comes too short and in the wrong direction. Kadabra catches the ring and gives it back to Dawn. Lenny looks down dejectedly, making a quiet cooing sound.

"We'll try again." He turns back to me, shivering. His eyes are narrowed with tiredness, and I can hear a quiet whining coming from his throat. "What? You want to give up?" He shakes his head back and forth and I nod. "Didn't think so. Ready for another?" He shuffles slightly and I roll my eye. "Well what's the problem, then?"

He squeaks and flattens into the ground, his eyes focusing on something behind us. I turn and follow his gaze to the rest of our party playing around in the snow. Marley is probably being too rough with Dracula, throwing snow at her using psychic powers. She doesn't seem to mind though, and actually seems to enjoy the roughness. Scout watches Elizabeth play with Scarlet's messy mane through narrowed, slightly amused eyes. Dawn's Grotle sits beside the injured Monferno, watching her flickering flame drowsily. The Luxio snarls but doesn't do anything, enduring the giggling Togepi's infantile antics. Dawn's Clefairy keeps to herself, making a small snowman a little ways away from the others.

Lenny leans toward them, flattening even further. "No, Lenny. This isn't playtime." He whines louder and squeals, sliding closer to them. "I need you to train. I don't ask a whole lot of you Lenny, and I really need you to do this for me." He looks at the ground, then back up at me with big watery eyes. I squint at him, holding his gaze. He's seeping out over the ground, turning into a sad little puddle with big wet eyes. "Fine, but only for a little while, okay? We really need to train." He squeals happily and pops back into form, sliding away to play with his teammates.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn slowly to look into Dawn's amused dark eyes. "I see you gave in," She says, tapping the ring against the side of her leg. Kadabra follows closely beside her, his silver spoons glinting.

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly, shivering at the icy coldness of my fingers. "I-well, yeah. He needed a rest. I get the sense he's pretty young."

She chuckles and crosses her arms, the ring hanging from beneath her sleeve. "He might just be really immature. Every Pokémon is different; he could very well be quite old."

Lenny slips and slides around Marley, skimming over the ice and giggling loudly. The Drifblim keeps trying to blast him with snow, but even when he does Lenny isn't bothered by the cold. I find it hard to imagine Lenny being anything more than a child. "I'm not so sure. He just seems…like a baby."

Dawn shrugs and walks over to her Clefairy, kneeling by the Normal-type in the snow. "Hey girl, how are you feeling?" She looks up at Dawn, then turns away quickly, shyly covering her face. Dawn's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but her face softens when Clefairy starts to quiver.

I step close to her, but Dawn holds out her arm to stop me. "What's wrong with her?" Dawn turns to me and puts her finger to her lips.

Her voice is very quiet as she reaches out to Clefairy. "Her old trainer treated her very badly. She chose to join Grotle and I when we first met her. We got into a fight, but managed to escape pretty easily." Clefairy shakes violently in Dawn's arms, but she holds her carefully so that she doesn't fall over or hurt herself. "She doesn't like to be surprised. I think she's just nervous around all these new faces. Is that it?" She's talking to Clefairy now, leaning forward so she can look the Pokémon in the eye. "Are you nervous?"

Clefairy keeps hiding her face and shivering. Dawn sighs and puts her down gently. "I don't really know what to do with her. She doesn't respond when I try to help her. She's just really scared of people and Pokémon." Dawn slowly stands up, brushing herself off. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Not really, no. I think when a Pokémon is hurt we're supposed to give them treats and vitamins and let them rest, but we can't exactly do all of that."

Dawn nods and runs a hand through her greasy hair. "I probably shouldn't have asked you."

I raise my eyebrow and turn to look at her. "How come?"

She laughs with little mirth, shoving one hand in her pocket and resting the other atop her sword. "You're not exactly the most compassionate person. I shouldn't have expected you to know how to take care of an abused Pokémon." A strand of hair flies into her face. She snorts, aggravated, and sweeps it to the side.

At first I'm offended, my heart immediately racing. But the look on her face is so cold, so disaffected …in a strange way I realize she's just being callous for the sake of being callous. On top of that, she's probably right. I don't have the energy or desire to argue with her. "I guess you're right."

She looks at me from beneath narrowed, distant eyes. "You've been through a whole lot of hell, huh?" I shrug, not sure how to respond. She shakes her head, looking down at the ring in her hand. "And look where it's all lead you. This place is a wasteland, and we can never escape it. If Kitty's right, if we're really trapped in a Quarantine… then there's nothing waiting for us outside of here. A few years from now, if we're lucky, we'll be living in a Sinnoh just as screwed up as it was before." She exhales loudly. "So I guess …what made you keep going? With the knowledge that we'll never get past all of this…" Her hands are shaking in the cold, but she makes no attempt to calm them. "How can you just keep moving and not care?"

Clefairy has begun to build her snowman again. She's trying to ignore us, but every few seconds I catch her glance over her shoulder. When our gazes meet she looks away quickly, panicked and nervous. I shuffle my feet in the snow, kicking a small clump to the side. "I guess… I really didn't think about any of that. It never…I never considered giving up, no matter what my goal was. I don't know, maybe that's what I'm supposed to do. I didn't think about what I did on any deeper kind of level. Surviving, pushing on…it just seemed natural. It never occurred to me that there's supposed to be a reason to keep going. It hurt sometimes, but…I guess I just dealt with it." I shrug again. "I don't know why I did what I did; I just sort of did it."

She looks at me intently, humor flashing briefly in her eyes. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you." She doesn't say it like a question; her voice is flat and low, more like she's making an observation than asking about a fact.

Scarlet's yowl snaps the strange tension between us. I turn around quickly, calling out to my team mate. "Hey, what's-?"

Lenny and Marley are circling around her while Scout, Kadabra, and Grotle watch complacently. Dracula holds her wing out slightly as if to step in, but has a hard time looking serious when she's keeping a giggling Togepi under her heavily bandaged wing. Elizabeth is laughing hysterically, making a high-pitched noise that tumbles from her tiny mouth with ease. Scarlet's pelt is prickling, a growl rumbling from deep within her. She snaps her tail back and forth, looking from team mate to team mate with furious yellow eyes.

I'm not surprised with Lenny, but Marley should really know better than to anger a Pokémon with a type advantage over him. "Hey, what is this guys?" They ignore me, continuing to anger the temperamental Spark Pokémon. "Lenny! Marley!" The Drifblim stops, but Lenny won't let up. "Seriously, Lenny. Leave her alone."

Scarlet begins to turn the tide of the chase, following Lenny and circling him. His face falls and he slows down as her expression gets more and more furious. I warn her not to and start to run for her before she does something stupid. Scout has taken an interest now, and despite her injuries is standing with her tail ablaze, ready to fight.

But Scarlet moves faster than any of us expect. A short burst of electricity erupts from her dark fur, sending Lenny flying backward through the air. He lands hard, his gelatinous body spread out in a wide radius over the snow. I run for him and kneel down, adrenaline racing through my veins. "Lenny? Lenny?" The blob doesn't move.

I call his name again, beginning to panic. I can't lose him, I can't lose anyone else. I try to gather his gooey body back together, but when I touch it heat envelopes my hand. I cry out and recoil instantly, pressing my burned palm against my cold chest. The snow around the blob turns to steam, and a brilliant flash of light fills my vision. Wincing, I fall backward and cover my eye with my good hand.

The heat radiating from the blob that was my Pokémon fades, and I slowly uncover my eye. A pair of big dark orbs blocks out the sun, staring deeply into me. Someone grabs me from behind and yanks me upward by my armpits, pulling me to my feet.

Lenny sits before me, a slight smile on his face. He's smaller than I thought Gastrodon were supposed to be, but he's noticeably larger than his previous form. I reach out to him tentatively. He squeals loudly and rubs against my hand, his slime coating my burnt palm. With great care not to step on any part of him, I move closer and bend over slightly to really take in his new body. He wraps slimy appendages around my leg and giggles in his bubbly little way.

Dawn clears her throat behind me, and I crane my neck to look at her. She's holding one arm with the other, the blue ring hanging limply from her right hand. "I guess you're ready to find her now."

Lenny's cooing at me so loudly I have trouble hearing her. "I guess I am."

Her eyes are cold, her face stone-still. "And I guess that means you're ready to kill her." Once again, it's not a question.

I look down at Lenny, smiling proudly and rubbing against my leg. _Yes_, I think. _I've been ready for days now_. But I can't say it. Something hard lodges in my throat and my chest is tight. I can finally do what I came here to do. I just hope I still want it when I meet her face to face.


	50. Chapter Forty Nine

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: VENGEANCE

There are a lot of people gathered on the streets today. The typical mess of ruined citizens wander about aimlessly, yelling and cackling and screaming at the top of their lungs. Boys missing limbs and old women with skin hanging from their faces beg for food, while quick-footed children run from person to person stealing their supplies. They have dark clothes and swift hands, hardly having to pause for more than a few seconds to sneak unprotected food or water from the backpacks of exhausted travelers.

They won't be taking anything from me. I left all of my supplies with Roark and Kitty at the lab. My crowbar, knife, and the five PokeBalls in my pocket are the only things I have to worry about. I figure I won't be needing food or water where I'm going.

I've been waiting too long for this. I spent the last few days quietly observing the crowds with Dawn, listening carefully for information or asking about Raichu and redheads. We kept ourselves out of conflict, taking note of how quickly the tide could change in the city. A quiet, peaceful street could erupt with noise and fire just minutes later. Old men knocking on death's door could move their old bones with surprising power the moment you looked at them wrong. Strange Pokémon neither Dawn nor I recognized would pick fights with Scarlet or Grotle without any provocation. The time spent watching for patterns and gathering basic information took forever, but was well-worth it.

Roark was not happy with my decision. Had Kitty not stepped in he wouldn't have let me stay in the lab overnight. He despised what he called "revenge for the sake of revenge," and told me her death would not solve anything. He could not understand the way Dawn supported me, and told her he was disappointed that she would agree so quickly to something so pointless.

Kitty insisted he not let it bother him. She said they had far more to worry about than whatever I was planning. That's fine. As long as they give me someplace to stay, I really don't care what they think of me. My goal is so close now; my heart pounding so fast that at this point nothing else matters. With clenched fists and sweaty palms I am finally ready to fight and destroy her.

Scarlet divides the crowd before me, her pelt sparkling with excitement and shocking anyone who gets too close. Her tail swings back and forth, hackles raised and muscles rippling with each step. She exudes power and confidence well-beyond her size. Today, her childish arrogance has abandoned her. She is too prepared, too anxious to be her spoiled, mischievous self.

The other members of my team know we very well may be walking straight to our deaths. Dracula and Scout are far too injured to fight, and I know it pains them. Scout was especially broken up over it. I know how badly she wants to taste revenge, but I have to keep her protected. If I lose her I have no idea how I'll keep moving. We've been through so much together; no matter what mistakes I've made she's always been loyal to me. She's my greatest friend and most powerful guardian. I can't imagine this journey without her, and I would never want to.

Scout objected to being kept in her ball, but seemed to understand when she realized Elizabeth wasn't coming with me. I planned on bringing the whole party, but Dawn insisted the little Togepi stay behind with her. After all, Elizabeth would only be a liability. If worst came to worst Scout or Dracula could use long-range attacks, but Elizabeth is too young to do anything. I'd hate to see any more of my teammates seriously hurt, so after a bit of arguing I agreed to let Dawn take care of Elizabeth.

Someone slams into me and I whip around to face him. He's missing an ear and I'm assuming an eye. A ragged Aipom hangs off his shoulder, ribs poking out from beneath bald patches on its fur. I must be looking at him in a strange way, because his disfigured gaze is angry and defiant. "H-hey, watch where you're going!" A few people slow down to look at him, their empty gazes lingering on his heavily-clothed form.

Scarlet turns and glares hard at his Aipom. The Long Tail Pokémon watches her warily, but doesn't move from his trainer's side. I narrow my eye and lock my gaze with the boy's. "I suggest you stay out of my way."

He takes a step forward, pulling a shining knife from the pocket of his worn blue jeans. "Excuse me? Who do you think you are?" Scarlet growls as she steps to my side, fur prickling with tiny jolts of electricity. He turns his knife in his hand and runs his tongue over his chapped bottom lip.

I'm not letting this kid waste any more of my time. I slam my crowbar into his side, hard enough to make him double over in pain. His Aipom lands unsteadily on the ground, balancing on its toes to look move intimidating.

Scarlet growls and pads toward him, her eyes glowing. The Aipom stares at her a moment longer before shrinking back and whimpering quietly. It runs to its trainer's side with its tail between its legs. The boy is breathing heavily, clutching his side and staring at me with a terrified expression. The people around us have begun to move again, the crowd quickly swelling to fill the short distance between us. I cast one last glance at the boy before walking away; his face is red with embarrassment, but no longer contorted in pain.

The closer I get to her, the busier the streets get. People push past me in an inexplicable hurry, shouting in my ear and making my heart race even faster. I feel a lump in my chest, a ball of anxiety weighing heavily over my heart. I'm confident in what we can do, but I also know the danger we're jumping headfirst into. I'm risking the rest of my team on a revenge plot. They've been so loyal to me, how can I put them through this? Am I only doing this for myself? Do they want the same thing I want because they feel the same hatred I do, or do they just want to follow me?

I watch Scarlet's tail swinging in front of me. Every paw step is powered by self-assuredness, every spark stemming from desire lying deep within her. She glances back at me as if sensing my distress. Though her eyes are focused on me, her paws still find their footing with incredible ease. She knows where she will step without having to look at the ground before her. Even with her eyes on me, she never trips or falters.

I saw the pain in her eyes. I remember how angry she was, how much it hurt her to be powerless against a stronger foe. She lay quietly on the artificial grass as her body twitched and shuddered without her consent. She flinched when she heard the gunshot, cried out when the sharp plastic blades sliced across her soft underbelly.

She sat quietly beside me in the church. She brought me my badge case and urged me to move on. She lost someone extremely important to her, but still had the strength to drag me from my grief spell. Scarlet, for all of her pride and immaturity, has kept me alive. She wants this just as badly as I do. I may not know what Marley or Dracula or Lenny want, but I know Scout and Scarlet are just as angry and eager as I am.

The crowd is thickest at the doorstep to her hiding place. Dawn's sharp reasoning and our collected information led us here, and we managed to spot her last night. It took everything I had not to take my revenge when I saw her closing an upstairs window. I felt my heart race the second I saw her, the image of her face burned into my mind. I knew immediately that it was her. The broad shoulders, dark skin, and vibrant red hair were unmistakable. Scarlet snarled and ran her claws along the ground, staring up at her with narrow, hate-filled eyes.

But Dawn made sure we stayed away. She told me she didn't want any more involvement in this. Now that I knew where she was, Dawn's job was over. She knows how important this is to me and my team, and said that was why she had no interest. This needs to be between Erin and I. My decisions need to be my own.

That was how I started this journey. I made the choice to leave, and from then on every mistake has been my own. And they must continue to be. After this, I will find a way out of Oreburgh. I will fulfill my promise to Cheryl by collecting all eight badges, one way or another. I will find survivors, and come to my own conclusions about my future.

I know that if I set my mind to something, I will do it.

Scarlet and I push through the crowd, ignoring the yelps of anger and racial slurs pointed at us. They close in around us, making the lump in my chest grow heavier. I start to feel trapped as we force them aside, their bodies squeezing mine painfully. Blood pounds in my ears and my entire body feels hot. I can barely see Scarlet weaving in and out of swiftly moving legs. She dodges them easily, her lithe body slipping through the clustered mass. Then she vanishes.

I nearly fall out of the crowd, stumbling on to the doorstep and scrambling to regain my balance. Old people sit outside, reaching up at me and begging for basic needs. They grab at my pants and sleeves, wrap their dirty fingers around my crowbar and try to yank it from my hand. I pull away and grasp the doorknob. It's barely attached, and the door slams against the wall when I throw it open with too much force.

The people inside hardly notice me. They fill the large room to the brim, the stench of countless close, dirty bodies contaminating the air. Children run around between busy adult legs. I see a few people with unappetizing bowls of white mush fighting to keep their food to themselves. Pokémon bark and yell loudly, desperate for the food so few people have. They lap up unidentifiable substances clinging to the decaying tile floor, and lick the walls for moisture clinging to their crumbling surfaces.

I slip in and move to the right, keeping to the edges to minimize the possibility of being noticed. The crowd is dense but few of them are much taller than me; I can see over much of the group by standing on the tips of my toes. I don't see any shocks of red hair, but that doesn't mean she isn't here. The same sounds of a large, chaotic crowd reach me from upstairs. People run up and down as quickly as they can. Nothing seems to move slowly here.

With measured steps I race up the stairs, keeping Scarlet behind me and checking back often to make sure she's still there. I seriously doubt she's in danger of being stolen or injured, but I need to protect her. Several people rush past me, and none of them seem to realize I shouldn't be here.

The stairs lead to a narrow hallway with several rooms attached. Each is filled with the same noise as the first floor, and seems to hold about the same amount of people. I check each one to the best of my ability and can't find her. I see other redheads, and even a few other Raichu, but I know none of them are Erin or her partner.

Starting to panic, I motion for Scarlet to follow me back downstairs. She lingers in the hall, snarling at another Luxio that managed to piss her off. I call her name and she hesitates, still focused on the other Pokémon. After another long moment she glances to me and relaxes. The other Luxio keeps growling at her as she backs away, sparks traveling up and down her body in agitation. She finally snaps away from him and races over to me, following me back to the first floor.

The air is much hotter down here. I can smell some kind of food being prepared, the scent mingling with the rancid odors of sweat and piss. Scarlet wrinkles her nose and snarls, narrowing her eyes at everyone who walks by.

A second room leads off the main entrance. There are fewer people there, and before I can give the signal Scarlet is already bounding inside. I flinch when someone nearly smacks me in the face with a massive pile of stinking rags as they push past. Something moans to my left and I turn to see an almost-nude couple crawling all over each other in the corner. A Pokémon yelps, engaged in fairly fierce combat with another in the center of the room.

It's there that I see her. A burst of red against a cream-colored wall, a dark block over a pale background.

She is unfocused, staring blankly at the wall on the other side of the room. Her Raichu is curled beside her, his tail wrapped around his small body. Her gun lies beside her, dark and strange in the low light.

I don't think; I act. With my crowbar tight in my hand, I walk confidently through the throng and the Pokémon fighting on the dark wooden floor. They pause when they see me, their trainers quieting for a moment as I push past them.

I stand over her, my pulse drumming against my skull. It's all I can hear. My mind races with adrenaline, my muscles ready to fight. Scarlet stands beside me, her body shaking violently against my leg. My palms are sweaty, my mouth dry.

Without a single word I move so that she has no choice but to acknowledge me. She slowly cranes her neck to look up, her face red and her eyes glistening. My hand twitches with anticipation and white-hot fury suddenly races through my veins. Dropping my crowbar to the ground, I slam my hand around her neck and wrench her upward. She's heavy, but nothing I can't handle. I keep her high against the wall with my right hand while I fish out and release Lenny with my left.

"Do you remember me?" I hiss, using both of my hands again. Her eyes are distant, cold. "Do you remember me?" The room goes quiet. Scarlet snarls and I feel her electricity shift the air.

Erin smirks slightly and shakes her head. I slam her as hard as I can against the wall, tears springing to my eye. "You…you miserable piece of shit! How dare you forget me, how dare you not know who I am? You ruined everything!" Her expression does not change, her face still an empty grin. "You…you're…" I cry out in rage and slam her against the wall again. "You're an awful, worthless excuse for a human being. You killed an innocent girl and her Pokémon. She did nothing to you!" The wall shakes this time, and I feel something warm and wet against my fingertips. "Murderer. You deserve so much more pain than I could ever give you." My breath is sharp and ragged, my chest burning with anger. "I hate you. I've wanted to kill you so badly for so long-"

"Then do it." She says simply, still smirking.

"What?"

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and she looks beyond me. Shaking her head, she speaks to me but watches someone else. "Do it. If you want to kill me so badly, then do it. I have nothing left." Her eyes flick to the side for a split-second, and my heart skips a beat when I realize what's missing.

I look down at Scarlet and Lenny. They're sitting before her Raichu, silent and apprehensive. The Mouse Pokémon is not moving. Its ribs are sharp through its dull fur, and I see now that the color on its cheeks is gone. Its mouth is open slightly, its eyes wide and empty.

Erin chokes and I loosen my grip reflexively. "Even he's left me now." Her eyes fill with tears and begin to slide down her cheeks. I swallow hard and shift my weight, struggling now for the rage that pounded through me only seconds ago.

Scarlet's warm body rubs against my leg. I look down to see her watching me with narrow, disapproving eyes. I have to. I can't back out now. This is what I've wanted for so long. Only a coward would give up.

I let her fall heavily to the floor. She rubs her neck and stares at me intently. I can feel blood between my fingers. I don't look at it, but I know it's there. I know it's there like I know Cheryl never bled.

I bend down and grasp her gun. I've never used one before, but I can't imagine it's that hard. I can feel everyone watching me as I weigh the weapon in my hands. I'm shaking so badly it's hard to hold.

Erin laughs darkly. "You don't know how to use that."

I narrow my eye and ignore her. Raising the weapon in both hands, I aim it as best I can at her head. At this range I shouldn't miss. I wrap my finger around the trigger and put all of my energy into steadying it. Breathing deeply, I tilt my head back and forth to make sure I know where she is. Then, holding that breath so hard my lungs begin to burn, I squeeze the trigger and quickly turn away.

_Click!_ I look back to see that nothing happened. With still-shaking fingers I squeeze the trigger again. _Click!_ Blood rushes to my face and her laughter drills deep into my mind. _Click! Click! Click!_

"Told you."

But before I can respond a massive boom overwhelms my ears. The entire building is shaking, pieces of the ceiling falling down on top of my head. Something incredibly hard slams into my ankle and I lose my balance. I drop the gun and grasp the burning bone, crying out in pain. Scarlet and Lenny surround me, but they can hardly take a step without being hit by falling debris.

An even louder bang explodes just beside me, sending me falling backward and landing hard. Pain erupts in my chest, like a jack-hammer on my rib cage. I reach for where it hurts and feel raw horror spread through me. Blood seeps out of my chest and through my fingers. I look up into Erin's cold, smirking face. Smoke spills out from the barrel of the gun.

The people around us are screaming and running for cover, but she's the only one I can hear or see. She lifts off the ground, her eyes widening and her muscles seizing as bright blue electricity pulses through her. She collapses to the ground beside her Raichu, and Scarlet's static-covered body rubs up against me. She licks my face and stares at my chest with wide, terrified eyes.

It hurts more than anything I've ever felt. I press my hand over it, but it does nothing to contain the blood pouring out of me. I can barely breathe, I feel like something is strangling my lung. It hurts every time I take in a breath, but through the pain I let fragments of reassurance escape my mouth. I tell Scarlet it'll be fine, that I'm fine and we're all fine and everything is fine. Lenny is crying loudly, his slimy body clinging to my arm.

I hear something so alien I immediately assume I'm dying. A familiar voice bursts through the chaos, filling the house and filling my head. It sounds like its being amplified by a megaphone. My vision fades in and out of bright white, clearing every time I blink.

"Citizens of Oreburgh! Do not panic! You are now under the protection of the United Sinnoh Restoration Front! Please remain calm!"

I can't breathe. I fall on to my side, gasping and holding my chest in a vain effort to keep my blood from spilling out of me. I take in one last sharp breath before Scarlet is torn away from me by a heavily gloved hand. The last thing I see is a pair of bright blue eyes before I lose all feeling. Blackness surrounds me, and the pain ebbs as the world disappears.

END OF PART FIVE

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all so much for reading. The Q&amp;A should be up in a little while, so assume if you're seeing this message you can still send in questions. If this story is not on your Story Alert list, I strongly suggest you add it if you want to see the Q&amp;A! Remember, questions can be about anything as long as they're directed to a character.<strong>

**I've really enjoyed writing this and I hope you've all enjoyed reading it. ;) Keep your eyes peeled for updates, and have a wonderful day!**


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